


Love: exact science or indefinable emotion?

by secretsinmysoul



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bottom Bucky, Bottom!Bucky, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Shameless Smut, Stucky - Freeform, steve/bucky - Freeform, top!steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-08 13:26:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4306791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretsinmysoul/pseuds/secretsinmysoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a scientific experiment, strangers are paired on their psychological, anthropological and physical compatibility. If a pair scores 100%, they agree to marry without ever having met one another. Then comes the honeymoon, house, and life together. </p><p>Steve Rogers is convinced by his friends to enter the pool of applicants. Steve enters on a whim; he never expects the scientists will find someone he's 100% compatible with. Then again, Steve had never met Bucky Barnes. He will meet Bucky, though, at the end of the aisle. </p><p>"If you’d asked Steve how he came to be standing at the altar of a grand, beautifully decorated, Irish catholic church in the middle of New York, waiting for his groom (whom he’d never laid eyes on before, and wouldn’t until the moment he walked down the aisle) he’d probably blame Sam Wilson. Scratch that, he’d definitely blame Sam Wilson."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Steve Rogers had chosen to leave the US army four years ago. Steve had known it was time to quit when, as he lay awake at night, he struggled to remember just what his squadron were fighting for. 

Since his exit, Steve had had a pretty rough time dealing with PTSD and it had been a bit of a nightmare adapting to his new life back in the ‘real world’.

Needless to say it hadn’t been easy – actually it had been the opposite of that – but he’d made friends, gotten himself a loyal and affectionate golden retriever, and landed a job in security.

The one thing he hadn’t found in four years, or in his entire life, was true love.

He was beginning to doubt it even existed.

If you’d asked Steve how he came to be standing at the altar of a grand, beautifully decorated, Irish catholic church in the middle of New York, waiting for his groom (whom he’d never laid eyes on before, and wouldn’t until he walked down the aisle) he’d probably blame Sam Wilson. Scratch that, he’d definitely blame Sam Wilson.

\---

Sam Wilson was also ex-army, and he met Steven Rogers when Steve visited the veteran’s association of New York. Sam ran a bi-weekly session there aiming to help those overcoming the aftermath of a career in the battlefield.

The pair clicked instantly, they had the same sense of humour and brought out each other’s best qualities. Steve inspired Sam to always do what was right, regardless of the ease of a task, and Sam inspired Steve to let loose and have fun once in a while.

Letting loose was what the two were doing when the whole arranged marriage ordeal had started.

They’d hit their local bar, as they were accustomed to do on a Friday night, with two of Steve’s co-workers at the security firm – Clint and Natasha, who happened to be a couple – and Sam’s friend from college: Tony.

Crowded into their usual booth, the five of them were engaged in energetic debate.

Tony, leading the conversation as he always did, was raving about a new science experiment.

It was nothing new; he and Sam were complete science nerds and had both studied engineering in their school days.

Tony was enthusiastically searching for the article about said experiment on his tablet, while he explained it to his friends.

“It’s really cool you guys,” Tony insisted, eyes wide with excitement, “so they’re looking for the perfect applicants – two people who are one hundred percent compatible psychologically, physically, anthropologically. People are actually using science to engineer true love.”

“That’s insane,” Natasha insisted rolling her eyes, “love isn’t an exact science.”

“That’s the thing – it could be. I mean, why not apply? I’m single, I’m applying.” Tony retorted, sticking out his tongue.

“Dude you’re applying?” Sam leaned back in surprise as he took a swig of his beer.

“Hell yeah,” Tony grinned, “imagine if you were chosen – you and this other person would make history. Not only that but you’d be so compatible the marriage would be easy.”

“The marriage?” Steve asked.

“Yeah that’s part of the experiment,” Clint said, scrolling down Tony’s tablet and scanning the article, “it says if you apply then you accept to the terms of the match.”

“Which are?” Natasha snorted.

“If you are calculated to be one hundred percent compatible with another applicant, on all three dimensions, you agree to marry them. You meet them on the wedding day, in the chapel--”

“Jesus Christ.”

Clint continued on in spite of his girlfriend’s interruption, “You then go on a two week honeymoon before moving in together for five weeks. At the end of the five weeks you, and your chosen match, decide whether you want to stay together or divorce.”

“See,” Tony shouted, clapping Clint on the back, “it’s only seven weeks of your life, including a free holiday and your own house, not to mention the opportunity of finding true love.”

“Okay wise guy,” Sam chimed in, “how exactly do they calculate this psychological, anthropological and whatever match?”

“You have to fill out the application,” Tony explained, snatching his tablet out of Clint’s hands and pulling up the form, “which consists of five questionnaires about yourself, two telephone interviews and cultivating in love, love, love.”

“I’m intrigued…” Sam admitted, cautiously.

“Ha, Wilson, I knew I could count on you!” Tony laughed, “For science?” He teased as he passed the application over to Sam.

He shrugged in response. “Eh, for science, why not?”

“YES!” Tony shouted.

“You two are crazy.” Clint scoffed, shaking his head. Natasha sipped her beer and remained silent – her expression conveyed her lack of enthusiasm well enough.

“The three of us are crazy, you mean.” Tony smirked, his eyes sliding mischievously in Steve’s direction.

Steve instantly raised his hands, mimicking a symbol of surrender. “Oh no. No, no, no, no, no and erm…no.”

“Oh come on Steve!” Tony whined.

“I’ve gotta agree with him man,” Sam conceded, patting Steve on the back, “you’re almost thirty and you’ve never had a serious relationship; what have you got to lose?”

“I’ve had relationships.” Steve retorted.

“Yes, you’ve had sensible, amicable relationships with nice men and women,” Sam admitted, “but you’ve never been in love – you told me that just last week.”

“Well…” Steve mumbled.

“Exactly,” Tony interrupted, “so why not take a chance? Be impulsive for once in your life, Captain!”

“Ex-captain.” Steve grumbled at Tony.

“Prove it.” His charismatic friend yelled, challenge glinting in his eyes.

“Yeah Steve,” Natasha piped up, “take a leap of faith.”

“Isn’t everyone looking for ‘the one’?” Clint asked, rhetorically, tilting his head towards Steve and pouting deliberately.

His friend’s eyes burned holes into his resolve from every direction. Steve’s stubborn nature slowly crumbled.

“Okay fine,” Steve sighed, “if it’ll stop all of you from sticking your noses into my love life.”

“Or lack thereof.” Tony muttered under his breath.

“We will,” Sam promised in a firm tone, nudging Tony’s arm to make him behave, “but you have to fill out the form here and now.”

“Fine,” Steve agreed, “it’s not like I’ll get picked for this thing anyway.”

\---

Flash forward five questionnaires, two phone interviews, three months, and four phone calls arranging the location and time of the ceremony, and Steve Rogers was waiting at the end of an aisle to marry a man he’d never met.

Somewhere in between the phone calls and the wedding there had been a very messy, very Tony-Stark-esque stag night as well. Steve couldn’t really remember it.

Anyway, back to the present.

The only thing the experimenters had allowed Steve, and his one hundred percent compatible groom, to know were each other’s names and birthdays.

James Barnes, March 20th 1985.

That was all Steve knew of the man he was to marry in a few seconds.

He’d never been more nervous than he was at that moment.

The heavy, wooden doors swung open.

Steve drew in a deep, slow breath as his future husband stepped into the church.


	2. Just say I do.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So we already know just how Steve was coerced into applying for the whole arranged marriage deal. What about Bucky? How does he feel about the whole thing... and the impending vows?

Bucky Barnes had sent in his application for the most talked about science experiment in decades because, honestly, he didn’t think anything could make his chaotic life any more shambolic than it already was.

Since he’d come home from war, Bucky had used his reparation money from the US army to buy property. He’d turned an old, abandoned building into a well-presented, warm and inviting bar/restaurant in the heart of Brooklyn.

Bucky felt proud of his achievement – as he cleaned and rebuilt the shaky foundation and dusty rooms, he imagined he was clearing out all the dark and dusty corners of his mind and starting anew.

The new life Bucky had scrambled and desperately scrounged to build for himself had made him happy, for a time. His project had worked to keep him busy and focused, but only for a while.  All the hard work made it difficult to concentrate on anything else, like the pain he knew he should be feeling emotionally and physically. The exhaustion from the grunt work that came with decorating and building a bar made it easier for Bucky to sleep at night; it stopped his mind from wandering to dark places, thinking about his painful past.

After several months of renovations, the bar was ready to be opened. Bucky advertised a need for bar and restaurant staff, and he was pleasantly surprised if not a little intrigued when a pair of twins applied along with an incredibly tall and muscular blonde man from way, way out of town.

Pietro and Wanda were an absolute godsend. Pietro was an excellent server – quick on his feet and always ready with a cheeky comment and a charming smile; the patrons loved him. Wanda was amazing behind the bar - she knew how to mix any drink requested of her with a quick ease and precision. Her magic tricks made for fun evening entertainment and her beauty always meant the men bought a few more drinks than they would have were they not hanging around hoping she'd glance their way.

Thor was born and built to be a bouncer, his stature and presence were enough to warn away any unsavoury behaviour. At the same time, his friendly demeanor made him a hit with all the regulars and afforded him lots of love from drunk students and workers on the weekend.

Last was Bruce, who had come to audition to be Bucky’s new head chef. Bruce had seemed timid at first, and Bucky had wondered how he could possibly hold his nerve in a busy kitchen. Bucky’s worries were revealed to be unfounded, however, when Bruce stepped into kitchen and started supervising the staff and cooking a meal. In his domain, Bruce was a whole new man with skill, an eye for detail, and not to mention a quick temper. Needless to say, Bucky hired him right off the bat and Bruce’s food never disappointed.

With all the hiring done, the only thing Bucky had left to do was organise the opening night. This kept him busy for two more weeks – he traipsed around Brooklyn putting up flyers displaying the date and time of his grand opening. Bucky’s Mum and sisters rushed around making food for the event and inviting everyone they had ever met to the occasion. Decorations were put up and the doors were opened.

Bucky had been terrified that his whole business venture would completely collapse before it had even begun. He was happy to discover he was wrong. His opening night at The End of the Line had been packed full of friends, family and locals from the area.

As time went by, the bar accumulated its regulars. Families from the area often popped in for lunch or an early dinner, and on the weekends, and even some week nights, couples and singles in their twenties came for dinner and the drinks that always followed. Business was going well and the few slow nights a week that came didn’t put too much of a dent in Bucky’s profits.

So, as the months flew by Bucky felt he had less and less to worry about in terms of his bar. Unfortunately, this revealed the gaping holes and problematic aspects in his social life and made them difficult to ignore.

Bucky loved his family and his new friends/roommates at the bar but something was missing. Bucky’s life lacked the person with whom everyone seemed to share a unique kind of intimacy.

Bucky had been through a lot in his time as a prisoner of war and, although his friends and family were extremely supportive of his recovery, he felt he needed a person with whom to share all of his innermost personal and imitate thoughts, desires and fears. Someone who would understand all of him - his brightest and darkest parts - and love him for them both. 

For most people, this person would be their husband or wife or long-term partner. Bucky had trouble meeting people; he’d made mistakes in the past, picked men who really weren’t good for him and consequently he was unsure in love. Bucky had often dreamed that someone, or something, could bring him his perfect man and guarantee he’d never change or become distant and cruel. Bucky knew such a guarantee was impossible but he had still decided he wasn’t capable of choosing a man by himself.

That’s why when Thor’s girlfriend, Jane, came into the bar one Saturday and raved about this new science experiment aiming to find two perfectly compatible people to marry and fall into a blissful life of true love, Bucky signed up.

He hadn’t told anyone that he’d applied. The night Jane had told everyone about the experiment, both Pietro and Thor had insisted the premise was utterly ridiculous and was doomed to end in divorce – as long as two people were even mad enough to apply. Bruce said the whole thing simply made him too anxious. Thankfully, Darcy and Wanda disagreed, they boasted that they were true romantics at heart. Darcy even claimed she thought the experiment would help fate to push two star-crossed lovers in the right direction. Bucky didn’t know if he agreed, but it was enough to convince him.

When the experimenters contacted him a month later, telling him he’d been matched one hundred percent with a man named Steve Rogers, Bucky almost passed out.  

He came clean to his Mum and his sisters and, sure enough, word spread to his friends.

“I’m going to call them and tell them I’ve changed my mind. This is crazy--” Bucky ranted, pacing back and forth in the bar.

“Oh no way, Barnes, you’ve got to do it!” Darcy exclaimed.

“Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen?” Pietro asked as he zoomed by with food for table twelve.

“I could fall madly in love with him and he could hate me with a passion.” Bucky groaned.

“Who could hate you?” Wanda asked, leaning across the bar and making her best puppy dog eyes at Bucky.

“I agree,” Thor added, “life is always improved by courage. If I hadn’t been brave enough to pursue Jane, my life wouldn’t be this good.”

“Always so sweet,” Jane laughed, “I have to agree though – fortune favours the brave, Barnes. What have you got to lose?”

“Not much.” Bucky admitted.

“And you have a beefcake husband to gain.” Darcy chimed in.

“How could you possibly know he’s a beefcake?” Bruce scoffed.

“I googled him.”

“What?!” The whole gang exclaimed before jumping to see Darcy’s phone screen.

Bucky saw, on the screen of her iPhone, the most stunning man he’d ever seen. Blonde hair, blue eyes, muscles to rival Thor’s, and a sweet smile.

“Oh crap, he’s so hot!” Bucky shouted, sliding to the floor dramatically.

“See – beefcake.” Darcy repeated, and the gang mumbled their agreement.

“He looks really kind, too.” Wanda noted.

“Looks like a good guy.” Bruce seconded.

“Too good for me.” Bucky wailed from the floor.

“Oh, get up off the damn floor.” Pietro moaned, lifting Bucky to his feet.

“You are just as hot as him.” Darcy shrugged.

“Oh God, what is he going to think when I show up at the altar with one arm and this face and--”

“He’ll think ‘holy shit I hit the jackpot’. Check your self-deprecation, Bucky.” His sister, Rebecca, replied.

“Yeah, dude, you’re a war hero.” Darcy added.

“I’m not--”

“Yeah you are.” Pietro and Wanda answered in unison. It still creeped Bucky out when they did that.

“You’ve got to go for it, baby. We support you, completely.” His mother, Winifred, promised.

The group gathered around him, and muttered words of encouragement.

Bucky sighed in defeat. “Alright, alright. I’ll do it. Can’t chicken out on this guy now, right?”

“Yeah, you can’t leave your beefcake husband hanging.”

“Darcy!” Jane groaned.

\---

Bucky hadn’t worn his army uniform in over a year. It was strange to look in the mirror and see himself in full dress again.

It was almost time to meet his fiancé at the altar. Bucky’s sister, Wanda, Darcy and Jane were already sat in the front row of his side of the church. Thor, Pietro and Bruce were stood in position as his groomsmen.

Only Bucky’s mother sat with him as he prepared to be married. She was fussing with his hair and suit and telling him how handsome he looked in his uniform. Without his mother by his side, Bucky might have just died from nerves. A knock on his door signalled it was time to go.

Bucky took his mother by the arm, clutching his hat with his crisp white gloves and praying he wouldn’t pass out on the way to the altar.

The heavy wooden doors opened, and Bucky and his mother made his way down the long, thin aisle.

Bucky felt like the walk stretched on for years. He saw his fiancé, Steve, already at the altar. In person, Bucky thought Steve looked even more handsome, and couldn’t help but blush when their eyes met for the first time and Steve smiled softly. Bucky felt himself smile, too.

When he finally reached the end, the butterflies in his stomach had almost settled. Bucky panicked, however, when he stood next to his fiancé and looked at Steve up close and his brain just couldn’t think of what to say. Thankfully for him, Steve didn’t seem to have the same mental block.

“You, erm, you look amazing.” Steve mumbled.

Bucky smiled, “So do you, Captain.” Bucky said, his natural cheekiness rearing its head.

Steve chuckled, Bucky had very quickly noticed the insignia on his uniform.

“Very kind of you, Sergeant.” He returned.

And then the priest chimed in.

“We are gathered here today because James and Steven have both made a very bold, very brave decision. But what is marriage if not brave and bold? As I look at the two of you before me, I wish you all the best on your journey together. Having met both of you, separately, I cannot think of two people more deserving of a life of love and happiness. Shall we proceed?”

The men nodded in unison.

“Steven will you repeat your vows after me?”

And he and Bucky went on to make promises to one another.

“I, Steven Grant Rogers,”

“I, James Buchanan Barnes,”

“Do solemnly swear,”

“To love him, comfort and keep him,”

“To remain true to him,”

“Before these witnesses,”

“I take thee to be my husband,”

“With this ring I thee wed,”

“In sickness and in health,”

“In poverty and in wealth,”  


“Til death do us part,”

“I do thee wed,”

“I do.”

“I do.”

Bucky had let out a couple of laughs through his vows - he thought that considering the tension and the bizarre situation it was hard not to. Steve had taken Bucky’s hand in his own and faced him throughout the ceremony. Bucky was grateful; that simple act had made him feel safe and sure in his choice.

So, Bucky Barnes became a married man as the priest announced:

“I now pronounce you both legally wed, you may kiss your husband.”

Bucky had been most apprehensive about this moment; he wondered what kind of kiss would be appropriate. They were married, after all, so a kiss on the cheek may be too impersonal. On the other hand, shoving his tongue down Steve’s throat – however hot his husband was – would be inappropriate.

When Steve leant forward and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to Bucky’s lips he returned the gesture without hesitation. It felt natural and made Bucky’s stomach leap.

So, Bucky supposed that most of his worries were already conquered. His fiancé didn’t run from the church when he saw him, and Bucky had managed to get through his vows and his first kiss without puking or fainting or the world ending.

The only troubles remaining would be the reception, the wedding night, the honeymoon and – oh yeah – the whole business of a marriage.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay - this chapter ended up way longer than I expected it to be. So Steve and Bucky have met, married and kissed all in the space of like ten minutes. The next chapter will show their wedding reception, speeches and maybe the wedding night. Stay tuned and let me know what you think about the second chapter! I need to proof read it, I know, but forgive me any mistakes - I will proof read sometime soon , I just wanted to get this chap posted.


	3. Can I have this dance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the wedding comes the reception; there are speeches to be made, first dances to dance and families to be introduced. Everyone's hoping the party won't be awkward considering the grooms only met an hour ago. Pleasant surprises await!

The reception was to be held a short distance away from the church, in downtown Brooklyn. Of course, Bucky’s mother had decided the best place for an impromptu wedding reception was a familiar one. So, the wedding party drove, in what must have been a dozen cars, to Bucky’s bar.

“You’re going to love what we’ve done with the place.” Bucky’s sister promised, kissing him goodbye before he hopped into the back seat of a jet black town car with his…well with his husband.

“So, you know where we’re heading?” Steve asked, breaking the ice as soon as Bucky was safely belted into the seat next to him.

Bucky let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah, I do actually. They probably told you that my Mom planned the whole wedding?”

“They did, which I thought was the best idea ever; I don’t really know much about centrepieces and flowers.” Steve joked.

“Me either,” Bucky laughed softly, “I am sorry that your parents didn’t get any input, though.” He apologised, his sincere eyes meeting Steve’s.

“Oh, that’s-that’s fine,” Steve stuttered in response, “both my Ma and Pa have actually passed on.” Steve’s eyes fell to the floor of the car and Bucky heard a high pitched _fuuuuuuuuuuuuck_ resounding in his mind.

 _Way to make it awkward, Barnes._ He thought to himself.

“I’m real sorry Steve. I-I didn’t know.”

Steve looked up and smiled kindly. The sort of smile Bucky remembered from the picture on Darcy’s phone. You know – the kind of smile so sweet a puppy would have a heart attack.

“Don’t be sorry, s’not your fault. Besides, you didn’t know. Really, it’s fine.” To make his point more clearly, Steve punctuated it by gently nudging his shoulder against Bucky’s.

Bucky smiled shyly, a blush lightly appearing across his cheeks. Steve thought it was just about the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

 _Damn Rogers, you’re already in deep._ He chastised himself.

“So, where is it we’re headed, James?” Steve said, changing the subject before he gave into impulse and kissed that blush right off his husband’s cheeks.

“Well, we’re going to what I’ve heard is just about the hottest new bar in Brooklyn.” Bucky answered, and Steve cursed the universe when he saw his new husband also had a cocky smile that sent shivers right down his spine.

“Oh really?” Steve goaded, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m a bit biased, though, being that I own the place.”

Steve’s eyes grew wide, “You own a bar?! That’s what you do for a living? Damn, you should know you’re much cooler than your husband.”

“It’s not that cool,” Bucky laughed, rolling his eyes, “anyway I bet you do something that’s actually helping society.”

“Hey, I think everyone needs their staple bar where they hang out with their friends and drink away the weekend.” Steve retorted.

“My wages depend on it. Now come on, Rogers, tell me what you do for a living these days.” Bucky demanded, and Steve wasn’t surprised that he found it equally as hot when Bucky said his surname in his sultry voice as he did when he said his first name.

“It’s not that interesting,” Steve muttered, “I work in private security, mainly for politicians and government officials.”

Bucky’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “You’re a fucking bodyguard?! Am I Whitney Houston? Is this happening?”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh, “I can’t tell if you’re happy about being Whitney or disappointed?”

“Are you kidding?!” Bucky all but yelled, “Who wouldn’t want to be Whitney? I knew you’d have a job that required all those Greek God-like muscles.”

And did Bucky really just say that? _Idiot, idiot, idiot,_ Bucky thought, mentally berating himself, _why don’t you just drool all over him next time?_

Steve scoffed, “Yeah as if you’re not twice as ripped as I am.”

“Whatever, Rogers. You’re built and you know it.”

The driver coughed, interrupting their exchange. Steve noticed it was Tony’s favourite butler/chauffer/primary caregiver Edwin Jarvis.

“If you two are quite finished with your flirting, we’ve arrived at the reception.” He quipped, in that crisp British accent, smirking at Steve.

The newlyweds laughed their way into the bar.

\---

When Bucky opened the door he was stunned, like deer in the headlights stunned. His bar looked _amazing_ , like it had been carved straight from his wildest fantasies.

There were blue fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, lighting the room with a soft, romantic glow. It felt almost magical. In the middle of the room stood all their wedding guests, dressed to the nines and drinking champagne. Behind them, the restaurant tables had been decorated with midnight blue tablecloths and ornate, delicate white chairs. The centrepieces were stunning white orchids, with bluebells scattered in between. At the front of the room, there was a long table, similarly dedicated. A brass band stood to the right of the high table playing smooth jazz.

The beer garden that lead outside the bar had also been decked out with blue lights, and the wooden benches were covered in blue rose petals. It was Bucky’s own personal enchanted forest.

Steve gaped, nudging his husband. “Wow.” He mouthed. Bucky could only nod in response.

“It’s perfect.” Steve said, entranced.

“I’m glad you like it.” Winifred Barnes approached the boys with two champagne glasses in hand. Steve and Bucky graciously accepted.

“Ma’am, you must be James’ mother. It’s an honour to meet you.” Steve said, raising her left hand to his lips.

Winifred giggled, “Aren’t you a gentleman? It’s an honour to meet you, too, Steve.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Winifred. Or Mom if you want.” She said, winking at Steve. She already reminded him so much of his own mother.

“Ma, could you stop flirting with my new husband?” Bucky whined. His Ma only laughed in response.

“So, Steve, ten minutes alone in the car and you haven’t divorced our Bucky yet? You must be a very strong man.” She joked.

“Our Bucky?” Steve asked, puzzled. He’d never heard his husband’s nickname before.

Bucky sighed, “James Buchanan Barnes: that’s my full name. For some reason, people call me Bucky. Don’t even know why you bothered calling me James.” He grumbled to his mother.

“Because your father and I thought Bucky wouldn’t sound right if you ever wanted to run for president.”

“Ahhh, my biggest dream.” Bucky crooned, sarcastically.

His mother lightly hit his shoulder, “Well I didn’t know you’d decide to be a bar manager when I gave birth to ya. Enough whinging, it’s time to take our seats and listen to some speeches.”

“Bucky, huh,” Steve said, as if trying out the name, “I like it.” He decided, flashing another million dollar smile in Bucky’s direction, making him weak in the knees.

“Steven?” Winifred extended her arm as an invitation for Steve to escort her to the high table. Steve gladly took her arm and as they walked ahead, Bucky could already hear them chatting away like old pals.

\---

Steve’s side of the wedding party went first with their speeches.

Sam, as the best man, took to the microphone. His speech was the epitome of Sam Wilson. He opened with a joke – something about how he was shocked Bucky didn’t turn on his heels when he saw Steve’s mug at the altar – but then managed to move the room to tears with his sincere sentiments about how Steve was like a brother to him.

“Man, I’ll tell you all something about Steve Rogers: he ain’t got a bad bone anywhere in his body. I mean it, damn I’ve looked for it more than once but that thing is like big foot – I’d bet any amount of money it just doesn’t exist. You’re the best guy I know Steve, and you deserve every ounce of happiness there is in this mad world. From what I can see, the two of you already look pretty damn happy. So, congrats and don’t fuck it up, man.”

Sam raised his glass and tapped his spoon against the crystal. As was wedding tradition, all the guests joined in and tapped their glasses, signalling the newlyweds to kiss.

This happened repeatedly through the night. Bucky really didn’t mind, Steve seemed happy to indulge the crowd and Bucky savoured every kiss. He felt his lips tingle and his heart beat fast.

Tony went after Sam. His speech was all about the validity of science in a seemingly unpredictable world. Classic Tony. He also took a moment to hit on Steve’s new husband. Classic Tony.

“To sum this up, so that you two can get one more step towards the wedding night,” He winked, and the guests laughed, “I’m so glad the two of you took this chance and put your faith in science. You were meant to find one another. Damn, though, am I jealous Steve got matched with such a hunk while I’ll be going home tonight to listen to Sam snore through the walls. Cheers, folks, keep me in your prayers.”

Clint and Natasha kept their speech short and sweet.

“Love can challenge you, it can bite you in the ass – more than once. If you’re lucky enough, though, to love someone with all you’ve got and to have them love you in return,” Clint began.

“Then it’s worth every single bite, every single challenge. It can feel like a battle sometimes but love…love is having a partner who’s always willing to fight beside you. There’s never an extraction plan. I hope the two of you come to discover that for yourselves.” Nat finished.

The pair ended with a kiss, and well wishes to Steve and Bucky.

“Never an extraction plan, huh?” Bucky whispered to Steve. “I like that.”

“I like it, too.” Steve smiled.

Bucky’s mother and sister stood up together, both spoke about how happy they were to finally see someone make an honest man out of Bucky. Rebecca told Steve, “You might not know this, Steve, but you’ve just married the strongest man I’ve ever met, and the bravest. I’ve seen him be tough and strong my whole life but I hope that, Steve, you’ll be strong now when Bucky doesn’t feel like it. I hope you give him a break because he deserves one. So take a load off, bro, and relax. You’ve got a husband now, to shoulder half the load. So, here’s to Steve, I know you can handle the load and, trust me, Bucky’s worth the weight of the whole world.”

Steve raised his glass to hers, a silent promise to shoulder any burden his husband may have.

Bucky’s mother turned her speech to Steve, as well.

“I know your parents couldn’t be here to see you married, Steve, but I’m sure they’re watching over you on this happy day. I wish for the two of you to grow, throughout your marriage, to love each other deeply and eternally. And I hope you feel welcome in this family, Steve, because if you take care of our Bucky then you’ll always have a place right beside him in my heart.”

Steve felt the warmth of a mother’s love wash over him for the first time in years. It almost moved him to tears.

With the speeches over and done with, Steve and Bucky took to the floor for their first dance.

The brass band played “It’s Been a Long, Long Time” by Harry James and His Orchestra, and Steve and Bucky both agreed the song would be a perfect first dance classic.

Steve extended his hand to his husband and asked, “May I have this dance?”

Bucky grinned and answered, “This one, and all the others.”

The pair swayed to the music in perfect time, despite Steve’s worry that he might step on his husband’s toes. Bucky felt at home nuzzled into Steve’s neck, he felt as if they were gliding across the floor. Steve’s arms were strong yet gentle as he led them around the room.

After everyone joined them on the dance floor, the night dissolved into a haze of champagne, laughter, dancing, and weightless happiness, for the pair. Steve thought Bucky’s friends were hilarious, and Bucky enjoyed Nat and Tony’s deadpan humour. The groups seemed to have integrated seamlessly, and neither of the newlyweds wanted the night to end.

Sadly, everything ends eventually and Steve and Bucky found themselves bundled into the back of Jarvis’ car once more. ‘Just married’ had been painted on the back windshield in block capitals. Steve couldn’t stop staring at it, not quite believing his luck, as he and Bucky drove off to spend their first night together as legally wedded husbands.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY AN UPDATE, I'm slow I know but Chapter 3 is here!! I got carried away again and spent much more time on the reception than I thought I would. Guess the wedding night will have to wait 'til the next chapter!  
> Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, thanks to everyone who's read and left comments/kudos. I really appreciate it! Keep letting me know what you think please :)
> 
> Also feel free to come talk to me on tumblr/give me prompts/shout at me to write faster: www.secretsinmysoul.tumblr.com


	4. Talking to the moon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding reception is over; now it's time for the wedding night! Bucky's not really sure of the social protocol involved when spending your first night alone with your husband...that is, when you've only known him about 6 hours.

Steve and Bucky rode away from their perfect, shimmering bubble of a wedding reception in the car with Jarvis. He drove them to a hotel where they were to stay for the night before they flew from JFK to their mystery honeymoon destination.

The pair travelled, this time, in Tony’s private town car – it was extravagant; across from Steve was a full mini bar and tiny, bright lights were embedded across the roof. It looked like the night sky itself was suspended above them. Steve thought, then and there, that the night couldn’t get any more perfect.

But Steve had always known that fate had excellent comedic timing. At that moment, Jarvis mentioned that Tony had booked the hotel on behalf of the newly wedded couple and had even had the cheek to do so under Steve’s name. According to Jarvis, Tony wanted Steve and his new husband to have the most luxurious night of their lives because, after all, you only get one wedding night.

Steve groaned when he heard the news. “Oh man this cannot be good. _” Why does the universe hate me?_ Steve wondered. “This is going to be a _disaster.”_ He continued to lament.

Naturally, Bucky was actually quite excited by the idea – “Why would it be a disaster?” He asked, “I bet the room will be sweet; your friend seems like he's one generous billionaire.”

Steve instantly blurted out: “He’s one _perverted_ billionaire.”

Truthfully, Steve was dreading what Bucky would find when they opened that hotel room door. Steve was picturing the worst case scenario – a bed in the shape of a penis and about a thousand sex toys littered around the room, oh and no towels or toiletries just edible underwear and flavoured lube.

Compared to what Steve was expecting, the penthouse suite of the swanky hotel where Jarvis had dropped them off was a _dream_. A fucking excellent wet dream worthy of documentation in a dream journal, if Steve had actually kept one. There weren’t any sex toys, nothing was shaped like a penis and everything seemed to be in order.

There were rose petals scattered everywhere, and even more champagne was waiting for them at the bedside, accompanied by chocolate.

Bucky was distracted, momentarily, by the overindulgence of the suite – the bed was the biggest he’d ever seen and looked as soft as a new-born chick’s feathers. The bathroom had a shower complete with three different nozzles and it took up about half the room itself.

As his amazement dwindled, however, anxiety settled in; Bucky really did not know how to play this. The particular situation was entirely foreign to him.

There is absolutely no societal convention that dictates how you should behave on your wedding night…that is, if you’ve only just met your husband that same day.

Steve was kind and funny; Bucky felt comfortable around him. Also, being about six glasses of champagne tipsy meant that Bucky could easily admit that Steve was hot, like a walking porno hot (but one that is really well shot, with no uncomfortable objectification and an excellent backstory).

But this whole thing was awkward, right? Bucky didn’t know what Steve was thinking at all: to start with - did he even find Bucky attractive?

Oh God, what if he was the waiting for marriage, 'pure as new fresh-fallen snow' type? Would he think less of Bucky because of his sexual history? What if they just didn’t work together sexually? Could you even stay married to someone you were sexually incompatible with?

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice interrupted his racing worries.

“Yeah?” Bucky replied, forcing a calm smile.

“You’ve been standing there for like two minutes now, staring off into the abyss.” Steve pointed out, waving his hands around to indicate the empty space Bucky had been so absorbed in.

Bucky laughed nervously, “I’m sorry, I was just thinking…” He trailed off, failing to come up with a good excuse.

“Listen,” Steve said, taking a tentative step in Bucky’s direction, his voice steady and even, “I think we’re both pretty worried about the same thing.”

“The same thing?”

“The elephant in the room,” Steve smiled, shyly, and Bucky considered just jumping his bones right then and there, “I think we need to talk about it, it’ll only be awkward if we let it be. So, no holding back, yeah?”

“No judgement?” Bucky asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Of course. Complete honesty?” Steve countered, quirking his eyebrow and smiling cockily.

“I can do that.”

“Okay. So, want me to go first?”

“Please.” Bucky said, a little too quickly.

“Well, the way I see it is we’re not obliged to do anything tonight. We could just talk, continue getting to know one another, and fall asleep. Or, we could take it slow; we’ve already kissed after all so that’s a start. We could see how we feel as we go. Whatever you feel comfortable with, I’ll respect that.”

“And vice versa,” Bucky smiled, and considered what Steve had said for a moment, “I think I like the idea of starting out slow – no pressure.”

“None at all.” Steve confirmed, “Some champagne?”

“Yeah, but first of all let me grab my inflatable duck from the car, he likes to watch when I fool around.” Bucky smirked, playfully.

Steve snorted, “Very funny.”

“I never joke about sir quacks-a-lot.” Bucky grinned.

\---

So that was how Bucky and Steve found themselves lying next to each other on the largest, most comfortable feather bed either one had ever come across. They had champagne in hand and both of the men had loosened their ties, kicked off their shoes, and shed their suit jackets. Bucky had even unbuttoned his shirt a little bit and Steve really couldn’t help how his eyes drifted to Bucky’s open chest every few seconds. He had tried to stop himself from looking, really he had.

The pair had been chatting for hours but neither had noticed the night sky start to lighten as morning approached. In their honeymoon suite, time didn’t pass the same way it did outside. It was as if hours turned to minutes and minutes turned to seconds. The ease of their conversation – which ranged from light-hearted topics such as what movies they watched at Christmas and who truly deserved to sit on the Iron Throne, to political views and current events – made both Steve and Bucky forget the passage of time for three hours.

That is, until Steve caught sight of the clock on his nightstand.

“Shit,” He laughed, “It’s like 4am. We’ve got to be up in 5 hours, maybe we should sleep.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up with a wicked kind of mischief Steve was starting to recognise as common in his new husband. “Not without a goodnight kiss.” He teased.

“That,” Steve sighed, “I can do.”

Steve leaned in towards his new husband. As the night progressed, Bucky’s hair had become more and more unruly and his eyes were becoming gradually heavier. It made him look even more gorgeous, Steve thought, illuminated by the fading moonlight.

Steve’s kiss was soft, but sure. It didn’t take long for heat and passion to encroach, and transform Steve’s romantic gesture into a full on make out session.

Steve and Bucky were rubbing their clothed bodies against one another, like a couple of horny teenagers. The friction granted them both a feeling of pleasure that rendered the night’s previous awkwardness completely null.

Bucky felt heat rising under his skin – he’d honestly never felt so possessed by his own sex drive before, especially after he’d come home from war and with everything that had happened there… _No, don’t think about that, not now!_ Bucky mentally chided himself.

That’s the funny thing about thought suppression – try not to think about something, any little insecurity, and you _cannot stop_ thinking about it; the task becomes impossible.

Steve started to unbutton Bucky’s shirt the rest of the way, and it made Bucky’s cock jump with anticipation. His stupid brain had to go and ruin the moment, though, when Steve pushed Bucky’s shirt off his shoulders, grazing the scars at the top of his missing arm.

Bucky jolted back, as if he’d been burned or startled.

“D-did I hurt you?” Steve drew back, his face a picture of concern.

“No, no, Jesus Steve, you didn’t hurt me,” Bucky frantically tried to explain, “I guess I just got a little overwhelmed. Could we maybe pick this up again, later on?”

Bucky hated himself. He mentally cringed at his own inability to overcome his phobia of anyone seeing or touching the top of his arm. He prayed Steve wouldn’t take this as a sign he should never touch Bucky again; Bucky liked the touching, very much, he would like more of the touching please.

Steve, however, responded like the perfect gentleman.

“Of course, Buck,” He smiled, warm like the sun, and kissed Bucky’s forehead softly, “let’s get some sleep for now, huh?”

Bucky grinned. “Yeah, sleep,” He agreed, and yawned at the thought, “I could use some.”

They turned out the lights and crawled into bed. As Bucky lay dozing on the left side – his agreed upon side – he felt Steve’s arm wrap across his waist and heard his even breathing behind him. Bucky allowed his own hand to drift down and cover Steve’s. For the first night in a long while, Bucky felt safe and content.

He hadn’t thought safe and content were feelings that were meant for him anymore. But then again, he hadn’t met Steve Rogers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN UPDATE. HURAH! IT'S HERE. Sorry I'm terrible with time frames. I'm giving myself 2 weeks until the next chap because I'll be away for a week - starting tomorrow - with very limited internet. Siiiiiigh. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read and commented/left kudos on this story. It means to world to me to know that you guys are actually reading and maybe even enjoying my weird stories. Please keep it up :)
> 
> Come say hi to me on tumblr: secretsinmysoul.tumblr.com


	5. I wanna stay, I wanna stay here with you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve are off on their honeymoon. It's just the sea, the sun and the two of them. Bucky finds out that Steve is a secret nerd (but it's okay Bucky's into it), and they both have an immature sense of humour and adventure. 
> 
> As their relationship progresses in the romantic bounds of paradise, Bucky makes an important decision.

A taxi cab was waiting outside the hotel for Steve and Bucky at 9 o’clock on the dot the next morning. Where they were flying to was a complete mystery – it could have been the Antarctic for god’s sake, though Bucky really doubted Steve’s friend would send them on a honeymoon to somewhere they were so drastically unprepared for.

Steve thought it was quite likely to be Antarctica.

Anyway, the point was Steve and Bucky could have been flying anywhere that morning; the Antarctic, Europe, Africa – literally anywhere. So, maybe Bucky had over packed a little – just a little – but he had to be prepared for any and all occasions. When Steve saw his massive, and quite possibly steel reinforced, suitcase along with his super travel-ready carry on backpack he burst out laughing.

“What?” Bucky asked, his hands on his hips in an indignant stand.

“Do you really need all that?” Steve responded, still laughing.

“Fail to prepare, prepare to fail.” Bucky pointed out, proud of his own excessive preparedness, “What are you bringing anyway?” He smirked.

In reply, Steve revealed the tiniest suitcase Bucky had ever seen in his entire life (and he had been in the army, where light packing is literally a required skill).

“Can you even fit your passport in there?!” Bucky exclaimed, his face frozen in surprise.

“And then some.” Steve promised, “Now come on we’re going to be late.”

Bucky sighed, “You’re lucky you married such a practical man, Rogers.” He boasted on their way to the cab.

“Don’t I know it.” Steve grinned.

His smile was a promise, a display of honesty and even slight vulnerability. Bucky couldn’t help but blush and turn his eyes to the floor. Bucky struggled to understand how Steve could believe, so genuinely, that Bucky was the catch in this marriage.  

The thing is, Bucky could handle his own jokes when he boasted about how great he was. It was how Bucky teased others and made people laugh.

Also, maybe it was his way of building his walls high enough to block out the view of his own self-loathing. When other people, especially people who were as stunning and warm as Steve, complimented him Bucky didn’t really know how to respond. Instead, he’d just instantly lose his cool.

At some point, Bucky knew he’d have to allow Steve a glimpse of the many shadowy crevasses within his mind. But maybe they should handle the honeymoon before Bucky got into the whole ex-prisoner-of-war-torture-survivor-slightly-emotionally-fragile-but-sort-of-proud-of-his-own-recovery thing.

\---

On arrival at the airport, Bucky and Steve could not wait to pick up their plane tickets.

“The suspense has been killing me the whole way here.” Bucky whined, shifting from one foot to the other repeatedly.

“Who should be the first to find out, then?” Steve teased, and Bucky made a note of the fact that his husband’s playfully challenging voice was sexy as hell.

“Race ya?” Bucky smirked.

Steve took a split second to delight in the way his husband shared his love of immature fun. Then, neglecting to reply, Steve raced through the airport making a bee line for the arrivals desk.

They ran as fast as they could with a childlike disregard for the opinions of others in their way. Bucky felt free, and what a feeling it was; like a heavy weight had finally been lifted from his fragile heart.

Steve felt the freedom, as well, for once he could let loose and give up the responsibility that was usually thrust upon him in his everyday life. Steve took a moment to admire Bucky. He was wearing a backpack and carrying his unnecessarily large suitcase not the mention that…well…he had one less arm than Steve. Nonetheless, Bucky moved with more agility and grace than Steve had ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

Bucky really was beautiful. His elegant movements were akin to that of a dancer, the honest smile gracing his face was lighting up his features and his long hair flowed behind him.

It must have been the contemplation of his husband’s beauty that caused Steve to lag behind.

Bucky reached the arrivals desk, slammed his palm down onto its surface and cried:

“Victory! In your face, Rogers.”

The girl behind the arrivals desk looked very confused as Steve stifled a chuckle with his fist.

“Er, sorry.” Bucky recovered, “My husband and I were just racing to find out where we’re off to on our honeymoon but you know he’s slow and…”

Bucky trailed off, his charming smile and embarrassed blush giving the young lady enough reason to forgive him.

She even giggled. “That’s fine, Sir. What name is the flight booked under?”

“Rogers, Steven.” Steve provided.

“Here are your tickets,” She smiled, “have a great honeymoon.”

Bucky all but snatched the envelope from her hands – the perfect picture of eagerness.

“Wanna know where we’re going?” He asked, nudging Steve’s shoulder.

“Err…yes please.” Steve answered, his tone conveying the obviousness of his reply.

“It says,” Bucky read, “Queensland! Oh my God - Australia - I’ve never been there!” Bucky smiled brightly.

“Neither have I – I’ve always wanted to though.”

“Me too, so badly it’s insane! And don’t worry I know exactly what we should do first.”

\---

The flight was long and exhausting, Bucky slept for most of it and Steve was delighted that his head kept dipping to rest on Steve’s shoulder.

Usually, Steve hated flying but his husband’s relaxed dozing made him change his mind.

Their hotel was fantastic, Steve had to make a mental note to thank Tony – truly thank him. At every turn Steve had expected Tony’s usual tomfoolery to rear its head but in the past few days the man had been unconditionally generous to Steve and to Bucky.

Yet another giant feather bed greeted the newlyweds, and Bucky and Steve couldn’t resist mischievously flinging their bodies onto it as soon as they walked into the room.

“Okay, so,” Steve began, laying across from his grinning husband, “what is it we should do first?”

“Grab your trunks, Rogers,” Bucky cheered, “we’re going swimming.”

Steve beamed. “I love your ideas, Barnes.”

So they hurriedly changed into swimming gear, trunks and thin shirts perfect for the scorching sun, and made their way down to the sea.

“Scuba diving in the great barrier reef!” Bucky screeched, as he saw the advertisement near the shore.

“This is crazy,” Steve sighed, as they changed into hired wet suits and grabbed their snorkels, “I cannot believe my life right now.” 

“In a good way...or?” Bucky asked tentatively.

“In the best way,” Steve confirmed, smiling softly, “I’m in Australia, where I’ve always wanted to go, and I’m married and we’re together and we’re about to do something I’ve dreamed of doing since I was a kid. I feel like any minute I’m going to wake up and realise it was all a dream.”

Bucky gripped Steve by the shoulder and grinned. “One thing I’ve learned, Steve, is that if you waste too much time thinking ‘bout life and how good or bad it is, you miss it. You think you’re dreaming? Cool, who cares? Let’s go live the dream.”

Steve couldn’t believe how wise Bucky was at his young age, nor could he believe how Bucky made everything seem so magical and perfect all the time just by being himself.

Steve laughed, and took Bucky’s hand in his own. “Let’s go then.”

\---

Their first day in paradise was absolutely perfect.

Bucky and Steve had spent almost all day in the ocean. Steve admitted that water was his happy place; he felt calm and at home in the sea or in the bath. Bucky thought that was beautiful.

Steve spent half their time snorkelling telling Bucky really obscure and adorable facts about the fish. He kept sprouting out things like: “Did you know there are 80 million different species of angel fish?” and “Hammerhead sharks can grow up to four meters in length.”

When Bucky finally pointed out, with a delighted laugh, “You’re kind of a nerd for fish, huh?” Steve blushed as bright as any fighting fish in the sea.

“Yeah, I’m sorry it’s kind of embarrassing I’ll shut up now.” Steve mumbled.

“Excuse me? It’s the best thing ever, and completely charming, you idiot.” Bucky insisted and then to really bring his point home, he gripped Steve as they stood waist deep in the ocean and pressed their lips firmly together.

The kiss was heated, Bucky felt a spark alight deep in his chest as Steve recovered from his initial surprise and took control of the kiss, taking Bucky by the waist and wrapping him in his arms.

Bucky was surprised to find how much the idea of Steve taking control, guiding their actions and touches, aroused him. Bucky didn’t have to think about how to position himself, which parts of him Steve did and didn’t want to touch or see, because Steve was in charge and as his husband’s hands roamed over his body, Bucky was completely sure that Steve was doing exactly what he wanted, what they both wanted.

That’s how they ended up making out in the most scenic place ever. The sun setting behind them, not a cloud in the sky, the sparkling ocean glimmering beneath them, and Bucky still thought the kiss was more beautiful than the location.

It was in that moment that Bucky decided he might be ready to seduce Steven Grant Rogers in Queensland, Australia.

Screw his insecurities. He’d seen Steve almost withdraw into himself because he didn’t think Bucky liked a tiny aspect of his perfect personality. Bucky liked every aspect of Steve, to be honest, and he wanted to show Steve he did. Bucky felt ready to put himself on the line – to see if Steve could like every part of him, too, even the parts that made Bucky the same.

Bucky knew that tomorrow morning, the scientists who had set them up in the first place would arrive to interview them about how everything was going so far. Maybe they wouldn’t approve of the newly wedded couple consummating their marriage, or maybe they’d find it encouraging. Bucky didn’t really care what they thought, only Steve’s opinion mattered.

As they drove back to their hotel and while Steve dressed for dinner, Bucky wondered how his husband would react when Bucky admitted he wanted to take their make out sessions further than they’d ever gone before.

Bucky decided he wasn’t going to push Steve; it wasn’t part of Bucky’s plan to lean across their candlelit dinner table and ask Steve if he’d like to fuck later.

Dinner passed with the same novel ease as the rest of the day had. Steve tried to live by Bucky’s earlier mantra and stop thinking about the fact that nothing every came this easily to Steve, but he knew that in life there was always a catch; every bubble eventually burst.

Theirs hadn’t shown any signs of bursting, though. Bucky had Steve laughing so hard at dinner that his sides hurt. He’d told him stories about his childhood in Brooklyn: how he’d annoyed his cranky next door neighbour with prank phone calls about misplaced underwear.

Steve charmed Bucky with his candour as he explained how he lost his parents and felt isolated because of it. He went on to describe to Bucky how he’d built a new family from scratch because he so wanted one; he’d met Clint and Natasha at NYU, he knew Sam from the army, and he met Tony after his design work at college had caught the billionaire’s eye (Steve went on to create the many, many homes Tony owned around the world).

Steve was artistic and like Bucky he’d known pain. Bucky became very aware he was standing on the edge of a precipice, a step away from plummeting head first into love.

Bucky felt confidence swell in his chest - he knew that if Steve kissed him tonight the way he’d kissed him in the sea that afternoon, he would take the chance and ask if Steve was willing to go further.

He hoped Steve would say yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN UPDATE FINALLY. I am sorry, I suck. I've been away for 10 days visiting family with no laptop. I wrote half of this chapter with a pen and paper, good and old fashioned. Sorry if it seems rushed but I hope you enjoy it. Loads of plot in this one, but don't worry lots of porn comes next wahoo.  
> Comments and kudos are more than welcome, your support means the world to me. Thank you for all your kind words/comments so far.  
> Come tell me what you think/give me prompts on tumblr - secretsinmysoul.tumblr.com  
> I like writing one shots on the side (keeps me sane).


	6. Let's go slow, I ain't got nowhere to go.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex, baby, let's talk about you and me.   
> Also, Steve and Bucky have some deep conversations over dinner.   
> Just a warning - this chapter mentions how Bucky lost his arm so be careful, I don't want to trigger anyone!

Steve felt pretty damn stuffed after dinner. He and Bucky had decided to eat at a charming, secluded restaurant down by the ocean rather than visit one of the five star, gourmet places closer to their hotel. It was a damn good decision, in Steve’s eyes.

The staff were friendly and welcoming; they really didn’t scrimp on their portion sizes – or small talk - and when they learned Bucky and Steve were on their honeymoon, well, the freebies kept flowing as did the wine.

The restaurant that night had seemed to be illuminated exclusively by moonlight and candles, giving the spectacular view of the breath-taking surroundings an intimate soft glow.

The atmosphere of the restaurant, its glowing ambiance, may have been what enabled Steve to open up to Bucky about all sorts of things (things he hadn’t shared with anyone in a very long time).

 It had been years since Steve had spoken in detail not only of his mother’s passing but of the woman herself in general. Steve had told Bucky about her easy smile and soft, golden curls. That evening, Steve had revealed tales of his mother’s ferocious protectiveness and her bold personality in the face of any opposition (monetary, personal, or otherwise - no one messed with Sarah Rogers).

Bucky had been attentive to Steve’s many stories, without exuding the kind of undue sympathy Steve had come to despise. He supposed Bucky must have suffered enough himself to understand that tales of difficulty weren’t cheap grabs for sympathy, but rather were displays of endurance and origins of strength.

 All of that combined with the fact that Bucky’s deep blue eyes had looked practically sinful by candlelight meant Steve left dinner certain that their evening had been perfect. Better than perfect.

Bucky happened to agree. He’d felt nervous, to begin with, what with operation: seduce Steve Rogers getting underway. Bucky quickly found, though, as the two of them chatted and laughed as the night progressed he forgot all about any plan he may have had.

It wasn’t a thoroughly well thought out plan, anyway.

Instead, Bucky allowed himself to be completely taken in by Steve’s stories and the fondness in his eyes when he spoke of his mother.

There was something about the softness in Steve’s expression that evening that made Bucky positively swoon – actually swoon like a woman in a fifties movie – over his husband.

Bucky came to realise that his whole plan for the night was ruined, entirely ripped to shreds; he wasn’t doing the seducing, _Bucky was being fucking seduced._

\---

As they walked back to their hotel, Bucky was at ease. He felt absolutely no semblance of nervousness or anxiety. It had been a very long time since Bucky had been so relaxed, maybe a little too long.

He laced his fingers in between Steve’s own smoothly and without hesitation. Bucky caught the way Steve’s face lit up with a smile as he squeezed Bucky’s hand in return.

 _Good move, Barnes._ Bucky mentally high-fived himself.

“A great dinner, followed by a moonlit walk through paradise,” Steve sighed wistfully, interrupting Bucky’s internal celebration, “We might as well quit while we’re ahead and turn in; can’t top all that.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Bucky teased, surprising Steve and, to be honest, himself.

Before the army, before the IED, Bucky had been a cocksure sonofabitch who could talk anyone into bed with his charming smile and his sinful lines.

People who knew him called him a charmer, and Bucky kind of lived up to his reputation. He was young, fit, and confident. Throw in the fact that he was also kind, funny, and respectful, and nobody could deny that the formula for irresistible man had been uncovered when Bucky Barnes hit puberty.

Then, Bucky joined the army. He had wanted to help people; to really feel as though he was making a difference in the world. Bucky knew he didn’t have the mind-set for studying and would never make it as a doctor or an engineer. But he had his fitness, and his perfect aim. Bucky was young enough, and courageous enough, to consider himself indestructible as well.

So, army it was. He became a Sergeant and worked with some amazing guys. Guys you could depend on and trust with your life.

He lost a lot of those guys, too. Bucky became more and more reluctant never to lose another man, not under his command.

The day he’d ordered his soldiers to get out of the RV, screamed and shouted with all his authority that it was a direct order, it was because Bucky had seen an IED inches ahead of them on the dirt path they were driving.

Perfect aim, 20-20 vision, and all that.

The only problem was Bucky hadn’t seen it in time to stop.

He’d hit the breaks – slammed them, hard as hell – and tugged down on the wheel, causing the car to swerve. Bucky had given them the tiniest chance of stopping centimetres short of the explosive. His men had jumped clear just before his left wheel made contact.

Bye, bye left arm. Bye, bye confident, cocky guy who thought nothing could ever shake him.

Maybe it wasn’t goodbye forever, though.

“You wouldn’t be so sure, eh?” Steve smirked, “What else could we do to make this night even better then?”

“Take me back to our room and find out.”

Oh yeah, the old Bucky – full of swagger and self-assuredness – was rearing his head.

Steve liked it very much. This playful Bucky had a wicked grin and a dirty promise glinting behind his eyes.

Steve had to work hard to stop himself from sprinting back to their hotel.

\---

Once they were inside, away from prying eyes, Steve pressed Bucky against the door of their room and pressed his mouth to his husbands.

Bucky groaned at the display of strength. He felt Steve smile into the kiss.

Bucky was determined to listen to the ache burning deep inside him, begging for Steve’s hands to explore all of him. He wouldn’t listen to his insecure mind again, not tonight.

Bucky deepened their kiss, tangling his fingers in Steve’s hair to pull him closer. As Steve’s hands roamed from Bucky’s waist to his hips, Bucky felt the front of his pants tighten.

“I want you.” Bucky panted, the sound of his voice partially muffled by their intense make-out session.

Steve broke their kiss, leaning back to look for sincerity in Bucky’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, “I’m sure if you are.”

“Ohgodyes.” The words dropped from Steve’s mouth in a single breath before he returned to biting and licking Bucky’s lower lip.

Bucky stepped forward, moving their tangled bodies in the direction of their enormous, feather bed.

Steve pushed Bucky down first, before climbing on top of him.

Steve began to undress his husband as he straddled his hips. First, he took off Bucky’s shirt and, in his eagerness, even ripped some buttons in the process (Bucky couldn’t find it in himself to care).

Steve pressed soft, tender kisses to Bucky’s bare chest. When he came to the scars around his left shoulder, Steve didn’t hesitate to kiss every single mark.

He then returned to Bucky’s mouth.

“How you feelin’?” Steve asked, his face – inches from Bucky’s own – flushed with arousal.

“I feel safe.” Bucky whispered, carding his fingers through Steve’s soft hair.

Steve grinned.

Bucky leant forward, sucking and biting at Steve’s exposed neck. Steve moaned, deeply and sinfully, and Bucky took note that his husband had a thing for neck kissing.

Bucky tugged Steve’s t-shirt over his head, and once it was off he began gently stroking Steve’s bare chest. Bucky stopped to roll one of Steve’s nipples between his fingers, enjoying the way it hardened in arousal.

Steve’s head had lulled in pleasure, so Bucky continued to tease and tweak his nipples.

He stopped when Steve lowered his head, kissing down the length of Bucky’s torso. Steve took revenge where he could, and grazed his teeth across Bucky’s nipple earning him a shudder of pleasure.

Steve unbuttoned Bucky’s trousers and discarded them somewhere across the room.

He could see Bucky was hard through his boxers, and Bucky certainly knew Steve was fully erect as he began teasingly rubbing Steve’s crotch through his trousers.

Steve whined at the touch, feeling like a horny frustrated teenager all over again.

If Bucky didn’t let up, Steve was going to go off way before any finale.

Steve lowered Bucky’s boxers, revealing his hard cock already dripping with pre-cum.

His first time seeing his husband’s cock didn’t disappoint. Bucky was well-endowed and had just about the prettiest dick Steve had ever seen; his long, flesh coloured shaft was punctuated by a cherry pink head.

Steve didn’t waste any time taking said head into his mouth.

He licked the length of Bucky’s cock gratuitously, maintaining eye contact with his husband as Bucky’s breathing quickened.

 “Jesus, Stevie.” Bucky gasped.

Steve would have made a quip about his newly given nickname but his mouth was…otherwise occupied.

He sucked up and down Bucky’s cock a few times, savouring the taste and moaning as he did so.

Bucky couldn’t stand it any longer.

“If you don’t fuck me right now I think I’m going to go insane.” He growled, and Steve removed his mouth from Bucky’s cock trailing pre-cum on the edge of his pretty pink mouth.

Bucky was entranced. “Fuck, you’re about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Bucky panted, tugging Steve towards him for a wet, filthy kiss.

“You should look in a mirror some time.” Steve retorted, smirking.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky crooned, “take your pants off, Rogers.” His tone became stern.

“Yes, sir.”

Steve made a show of standing at the foot of the bed, removing his trousers and underwear slowly. He made sure to face away from Bucky, giving him a great view of his ass.

“You’re a bastard,” Bucky lamented, “You were sent here by the devil to give me blue balls.”

Steve chucked, “Now, you know I’d never do that.”

He grabbed a bottle of lube out of the nightstand, once again mentally thanking Tony Stark, and coated his fingers.

Steve crouched in between Bucky’s legs, raising them so Bucky’s ankles were resting on Steve’s shoulders.

“I’m gonna take real good care of you, Buck.” Steve promised, his voice husky with arousal.

Steve slipped a finger into Bucky’s hole, and Bucky’s body arched into the touch. He hadn’t been intimate with anyone in so long but, with Steve, Bucky felt as though this was the first and simultaneously the hundredth time he’d been inside him.

It felt good. It felt safe.

Steve added another finger and curled them, hitting Bucky’s sweet spot.

It felt _amazing_.

“Steeeve, oh God yes.” Bucky gasped.

Steve grinned, wickedly.

“You ready for me, baby?” He asked, flexing his fingers some more and making Bucky squirm.

“Yes,” Bucky shouted, “I need you inside me.”

“You need what inside you, babe?” Steve teased.

 _The bastard,_ Bucky exclaimed in his mind. He could play Steve’s game, though.

“Your hard, wet cock. Please, Stevie, I need it.”

Steve hissed through his teeth as a stab of arousal shuddered through his body.

You know what they say about playing with fire.

“I’ll give you anything you want, Buck.” Steve promised.

He lined his cock up against Bucky’s hole, nudging at his entrance eagerly.

Steve slipped inside Bucky, and Bucky gasped.

He knew it was the cliché of all clichés, but this felt better than anything Bucky had ever experienced before. He’d never been filled this way by a lover. He felt complete; as though he were connected to Steve, not only physically but intimately. Steve had seen his body and his soul, and had chosen to make both feel so much lighter.

Steve was experiencing the same pleasure, and feelings of synchronicity, as his husband – he groaned indulgently at the feeling of Bucky’s tight muscle around him.

Steve began moving, slowly, in and out of the gorgeous man below him.

Bucky circled his hips in time with Steve’s pace. The feeling was intense, the pleasure building by the second; Steve realised he wouldn’t last long.

Steve increased the pace and took Bucky’s cock in his hand, pumping in time with his thrusts. Steve knew he would come soon, and didn’t want to do so without Bucky toppling over the edge with him.    

It didn’t take long for Bucky’s vision to blur, as he came hot and wet into Steve’s hand.

His husband followed seconds later, and collapsed next to Bucky panting but blissful with release.

“Wow.” Steve sighed.

“Yeah, wow.” Bucky agreed, catching his breath.

Bucky turned, placing his head on Steve’s heaving chest.

“Marriage consummated, huh?” Bucky smirked.

“Give me a little while and we can consummate again. Just to be sure.”

Bucky grinned. “Rogers, you have yourself a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I NEED TO PROOF READ I KNOW. I get so carried away when I finish a chapter - I just get super excited to share it with you guys and hear what you think, I wanna post right away!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and to everyone who has commented/left kudos so far. It honestly makes my day. 
> 
> Also as a side note - I don't know a lot about IEDs or injuries sustained by them (only what I've read online or seen in the news) I'm no expert and I hope not to offend any readers!
> 
> Sorry I got pervy this chapter but I hope you like it ;) Next chap is gonna be a bit of an angst fest so enjoy the marital bliss while you can. 
> 
> Please continue to tell me what you think, and thanks so much just for reading this far. 
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr about these two idiots in love if you'd like: secretsinmysoul.tumblr.com.
> 
> You guys are amazing!!!


	7. Maybe I should just walk away.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the scientists to interview Bucky and Steve. But when wires get crossed, and some questions cross the line, the boys could be in for their first fight as a married couple. It's not going to be pretty.

The panel of scientists, who aimed to investigate the nature of Steve and Bucky’s short marriage and subsequent honeymoon, arrived in Queensland two weeks later than expected.

Apparently there had been difficulties with various flights and scheduling conflicts; a lot of half-hearted, clerical excuses were given for their lateness. Bucky couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He had been living in a fantasy for a fortnight - a giant bubble of laughter, sex, and exploring not only the surroundings but one another as well.

And, yes, Bucky knew at some point it would have to end (because reality always comes back to bite you in the ass, and nothing as perfect as that week could ever stand a chance in the real world), but for a week he’d been swimming in blissful denial.

The wave of scientists and researchers hit their hotel like a tsunami on a Sunday.

Steve had assured him everything would be absolutely fine – it was only a few questions about their time together, after all – and Bucky willed himself to be as confident as his husband.

But he just loathed the idea of sitting before a panel of strangers and letting them interrogate him about one of the most intimate, special relationships of his life.

Bucky wondered if they’d call him a liar, or a fool, when he told them about how unbelievably magical his marriage had been so far.

After all, it was kind of too good to be true. Right?

\---

Steve knew Bucky was nervous when the experimenters arrived and called them downstairs for interviews. Separate interviews.

Bucky didn’t explicitly communicate his worry, but he didn’t need to. Steve saw how his husband’s entire demeanour had changed after he hung up the hotel phone and told Bucky the people responsible for their marriage had arrived.

Bucky had been sat in their room, fussing with the cuff of his sweatshirt, biting his nails and punctuating the minutes, as they went by, with a series of questions.

“What do you think they’re going to ask?”

“I honestly don’t know, Buck,” Steve replied, sitting across from the man who – only a few hours earlier – had been completely calm; teasing Steve with his charm and humour. “It’ll only be questions about us: the wedding, the honeymoon and how we’re getting on.” Steve tried to reassure Bucky.

“You gonna tell them everything?” He mumbled, looking at the ground.

Steve laughed softly. “I’ve got nothing to hide, after all. I’ll just be telling them how amazing the past couple of weeks have been.”

That earned him a small smile from his other half.

“How about I go down first,” Steve offered, “and then I’ll tell you how easy it was?”

“Okay,” Bucky agreed, somewhat reluctantly, “but don’t take too long.”

Steve reached out to grab Bucky’s hand and give it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t worry,” Steve said as he walked to the door, “I won’t.”

He flashed Bucky one of his signature smiles before he left, the one that made Bucky feel warm and safe but somehow doomed all at the same time.

\---

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Captain.”

A brunette woman was the first to speak. She sat behind a long, rectangular table with a man on either side of her. Their chairs were stately and ornate.  Steve was sat in a much less impressive chair on the opposite side of the table, starting to feel some of Bucky’s nerves creeping their way into his system. He cleared his throat.

“It’s good to meet you too, ma’am.” Steve smiled politely.

“These are my associates:” She said, motioning to her right, “This is Dr Garrett, head of anthropology at King’s College in London,” Then, she motioned to her left, “and this is Dr Carson, the top physician in his field – the study of physiology and attraction,” She placed her hand on her chest, “And I am Dr Victoria Hand, I research human Psychology.”

Steve took a good look at the panel for the first time. They were all very well dressed in suits; the men both wore grey ties and their outfits lacked colour, whilst Dr Hand wore a purple blouse with a dark blazer and a straight pencil skirt to match. The men had hard faces – they looked stern and unflinching - but Dr Hand’s expression seemed kinder; she wore a smile on her mauve tinted lips and spoke softly.

Steve realised, though, that he owed something to all three of the scientists who sat in front of him. He owed them because without them Bucky would be nothing more than a handsome stranger. Really, Steve supposed he owed them everything.

“It’s an honour to meet all of you.”

“We’re just going to ask you a few questions about the process. As you know this experiment is novel and pioneering in the field of research. As a result, we have the press all over us. The data we collect from this match with mostly be verbal – testimonies from you and Sergeant Barnes about married life, compatibility, and the like.”

“I understand.” Steve nodded.

“Feel no need to be succinct,” She smiled, “and if you’re ready we’ll proceed with our questions.”

“I’m ready.” Steve affirmed with a curt nod.

The man to Dr Hand’s left began. “When you first saw Sergeant Barnes, how did you feel?”

Steve thought for a second. “Mostly relieved,” He paused, “because he seemed kind and, frankly, just as nervous as I was to be standing in a church and getting married.”

“So you were nervous?” The man shot back.

“Not because of Bucky – Sergeant Barnes,” Steve corrected, “but because of the situation. I mean blind dates used to make me nauseous and I signed up for a blind wedding.” He gently laughed at his own absurdity.

Notes were frantically scribbled down on the notebooks in front of the experts, before the man to Dr Hand’s left began speaking.

“Tell me about the wedding, and the reception.”

“It was lovely,” Steve remembered, “I didn’t mess up my vows, which was a good start, and the reception was…it was out of a dream.”

“Out of a dream?”

“Yeah, there were all these blue lights and beautiful white tables. It was overwhelming to meet so many people in such a short space of time but everyone was really welcoming. The speeches were lovely too."

"What about Sergeant Barnes?”

Steve smiled, it was a quiet smile – the one that appears on the faces of those who feel like they’re the first to discover love and are holding onto a precious secret.

“We got on, right away. We made each other laugh and, for me, that was one of my top priorities in any partner.”

“Would you say you share a sense of humour?” Dr Hand chimed in, and Steve was happy to see she was smiling as well.

“Yeah,” He grinned, “we laugh a lot together. I think Bucky’s the funny one though.”

“And the wedding night,” The stern man with a hardened expression, Dr Garrett as Steve recalled, spoke again, “What happened there?”

“It was the first time we were alone together,” Steve explained, “So we talked most of the night, got to know each other…” He trailed off.

“Just _talked_?” Garrett asked, suggestively.

“I think we kissed as well.”

“You think?”

“We kissed.” Steve answered curtly.

“And the honeymoon,” Dr Hand quickly diverted the topic, “How has it been getting to know your husband in such an idyllic setting?”

“Wonderful,” Steve confessed, “We’ve explored the area and it’s been like an adventure. It’s given us a chance to really talk too. We’ve shared so much about our childhoods, our friends, and our interests; I feel like I really know Bucky now.”

“So you’ve discussed his service history?” Dr Carson asked, in a blasé tone.

“Not in great detail, we’ve both left our history of service behind.”

“Interesting.” Dr Garrett murmured, eyes downcast as he scribbled in his black, leather-bound notebook.

“Final question,” Carson cleared his throat before continuing, “Has the relationship progressed… _physically_?”

Steve’s felt heat rise to his cheeks almost instantly. He was lost for words – would Bucky want these scientists, people Steve could sense his husband already distrusted, knowing about the more intimate aspects of their marriage?

Dr Hand spoke up, “We would appreciate your candour, Captain Rogers.”

Steve had told Bucky he would be honest with the researchers, and he couldn’t help but be reminded of the integral role this panel had played in his newfound happiness. So, Steve decided to follow his mother’s old advice: honesty is always the best policy.

Steve choked out a “Yes, ma’am. We’re…erm, intimate.”

Noticing his obvious discomfort, Dr Hand stood up and straightened her skirt before walking to Steve and giving him a firm handshake and a warm smile.

“Thank you, Captain, that will be all.”

“We’d like to speak with Sergeant Barnes now.” Dr Garrett chimed in, his cold eyes refusing to rise from his task of scribbling notes.

“I’ll let him know.” Steve nodded.

\---

Bucky was waiting outside the door when Steve emerged.

“Finally!” He exclaimed, “How was it?”

Bucky still seemed anxious, shifting from one foot to the other where he stood.

“It was fine, Buck. Pretty much what we expected.” Steve was trying to be as calming as possible, and really it hadn’t been all that bad.

Bucky nodded. “They want to see me now, huh?”

“You’ll be absolutely fine.” Steve assured, pressing a tender kiss to Bucky’s forehead.

The gesture helped give Bucky the courage to walk through the door, leaving his husband’s side for the first time in weeks.

He saw the same panel Steve had seen, only differently. To Bucky, the three of them looked like bigoted members of a bloodthirsty jury and Bucky was the one on trial.

Introductions were given once more by the least threatening of the trio – Dr Hand – and then Bucky took his place in the hot seat.

“Sergeant Barnes--” Dr Carson began.

“Bucky. Call me Bucky, please.”

“Bucky,” The doctor continued, “How did you find the wedding and your first meeting with Captain Rogers?”

Bucky considered this for a moment, thinking back to that whirlwind of a day – his wedding day.

“It was…definitely weird. All the preparation and planning was a blur but when I first saw Steve it…it all didn’t seem so chaotic any more. He had kind eyes, y’know, trusting ones.”

“Was it love at first sight?”

Bucky snorted, “I don’t believe in that. Love grows over time…but I—I felt _something_ , I felt calm when I saw Steve for the first time.”

Dr Hand smiled, “And the wedding reception?”

“It was real nice,” Bucky remembered, as he felt a smile play on his lips, “Steve’s friends were great and we laughed together. We clicked, y’know, he laughed at all my jokes. I don’t know if it was out of his extreme politeness or because he genuinely found me funny but I didn’t really care.”

“And was the wedding night typical?”

“I don’t think anything with Steve and I is typical,” Bucky scoffed, and Dr Hand kindly laughed along with him, “We stayed up all night and talked like people do in movies; I never thought that actually happened in real life. There were no awkward silences. It was…comfortable.”

“So during the wedding night, and also your honeymoon, did you discover a lot about one another?” Dr Garrett asked, but Bucky noted the monotone of his voice indicative of feigned interest.

“Yeah, y’know, we talked about growing up in Brooklyn and Steve’s family. Talked about my restaurant and his job, our friends. I do feel like I know him.”

“Does he know you?” Dr Garrett countered almost immediately.

Given the doctor’s sudden interest in the conversation, Bucky knew the man was driving towards what he really wanted to talk about, and it wasn’t the newlyweds’ life of marital bliss.

“I would say so.” Bucky answered, tentatively.

“You haven’t told him about your psychological conditions, nor your time as a prisoner of war.”

Bucky’s face fell flat. Who did this guy think he was?

What gave this asshole the right to bring up Bucky’s past?

How was it any of his business what Bucky did or didn’t tell Steve?

“It hasn’t come up.” Bucky responded through gritted teeth.

“Don’t you think it’s something he deserves know?”

 _Fucking bastard,_ Bucky's mind roared.

“Listen, Doc,” Bucky growled, “If you’ve read my psych eval, which I’m pretty damn sure you have, you know I’m in recovery. _When_ I choose to tell Steve about my past is my business. We’ve only been married less than a month.”

“In that time you’ve been intimate with Captain Rogers. I thought you may have opened up psychologically as well.”

Bucky felt rage bubbling inside him, like too much water boiling over a hot stove about to overflow.

“Fuck you.” Bucky spat out the words and stood up from his chair. “I didn’t come here to be judged.”

He left the room before he could do any more harm, and slammed the door behind him. To make a point.

Steve was standing outside, still, and had quite obviously heard Bucky’s goodbye message to the panel if the shocked look on his face was anything to go by.

“You told them we had sex?!” Bucky shouted, as he marched past his husband heading for the door of the hotel lobby with focused intent.

Steve cringed and desperately called after him: “Buck, I’m sorry. Come back! We can talk about this!”

Bucky was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I took SO LONG to update and I am very SORRY. I started uni again and between dissertations I just couldn't get this chapter finished! I'll do better next time.   
> I am TREMENDOUSLY GRATEFUL to everyone who reads/comments/leaves kudos on this story. It means so much to me and helps me get into gear and write faster. Please let me know what you think and tell me to up my writing game if you think it's needed. But thank you thank you thank you for sticking with me.   
> TELL ME TO WRITE MORE/COME INSPIRE ME ON TUMBLR - secretsinmysoul.tumblr.com


	8. I'll stop the world and melt with you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Usually your first fight as a couple comes before your wedding day; it's how you know your relationship can survive confrontation.   
> Too bad Steve and Bucky hadn't met before they were married - how are they going to tackle their first fight?

Steve was wracking his brain about what to do next: whether to run around Queensland looking for Bucky in a population of millions or to wait in their hotel room and just pray Bucky returned safely. Interrupting his internal debate, Dr Hand tapped Steve on the shoulder and began to apologise for her colleagues’ behaviour.

“It’s really been a surprise how insensitive some of the people elected to this research team have turned out to be,” She huffed, “Dr Garrett’s behaviour in there was simply unacceptable.”

“You didn’t put the team together yourself?” Steve asked, he had expected her to be the head of the research project, probably due to her natural leadership qualities.

“Actually we were all recruited by some huge, global company with an even larger budget for funding. Anyway, please assure Bucky that I’ll be having a talk with Dr Garrett about professionalism.”

She handed Steve a card with her name and number on it. “And give me a ring any time if you think you need a helping hand. Confrontation can be the ruin of a marriage, if tackled wrongly.”

On that note, Dr Hand gracefully made her exit, leaving Steve to his worries.

\--

Bucky had been sat at a bar, a few streets away from the hotel, alone and moping with a face like a slapped arse for what any sane person would deem far too long.

He was mulling over the events of that afternoon. He was certain that those researchers had no right to speak to him the way that they did. Those guys definitely deserved the profanity he had hurled their way…but Steve…Steve really hadn’t done anything wrong.

God Bucky’s mind was a mess; he was angry with himself because maybe it was possible that he had been deceiving Steve. Bucky wondered if it was wrong: having sex with Steve without revealing his past, and his resultant mental health problems.

But those facts, those details…they belonged to Bucky. They were personal and difficult to explain to other people and, well, just…his. Bucky had intended to tell Steve at some point, he was just…waiting…waiting for when he felt it was relevant and…appropriate.

Bucky could hear his own little therapist’s voice at the back of his brain confirming that his past was his own. He wasn’t required to share it with anyone and should only do so when ready; when he could trust himself to be delicate and vulnerable around someone (around Steve).

Bucky couldn’t work out why, then, he felt he’d been dishonest by allowing himself to start to fall in love with someone. Someone who didn’t know who it was they were sleeping next to every night.

Steve hadn’t deserved the verbal assault Bucky had laid upon him. Bucky was reminded of just how much he despised anyone who raised their voice to him unnecessarily. _You goddamn hypocrite,_ Bucky scolded himself.

He figured it was probably time to face the music. Bucky knew he owed Steve an apology for his outburst, and hoped that if he marched into their room and uttered a string of heartfelt apologies that Steve would forgive him and a divorce wouldn’t be needed. Please, Bucky prayed, don’t let a divorce be needed. He tried to remember just how many languages he could say ‘I’m sorry’ in as he walked back to the hotel.

\--

Steve was sat on the edge of their bed with his head in his hands when he finally heard the click of a key in the door.

Bucky edged it open slowly, and when he saw Steve’s hunched figure turn its head his way, he began his apology.

“Before you say anything,” Bucky began, his hands in the air indicative of a truce, “I just want you to know how sorry I am for shouting at you. Those guys riled me up, and I shouldn’t have taken my frustrations out on you. I was feeling guilty because maybe they were right – maybe I was wrong to sleep with you without getting all mushy and telling you how I lost my arm and every other sordid detail of my--”

And thank the lord Steve chose to interrupt Bucky at that point because, boy, was he rambling.

“I don’t care that you shouted at me. You had a right to be angry - those assholes shouldn’t have pried. Physical and emotional intimacy develop at different rates, and that’s fine; any idiot knows that.”

“Then why do you look like you really want to punch me?” Bucky asked, lowering his arms.

Steve’s hands were clenched so tightly together his knuckles were white and raw. 

He shook his head and inhaled sharply before answering.

“I’m mad because you ran off _alone_ in an unfamiliar city, when you were obviously upset - maybe even triggered for all I knew. Since then, I’ve been sat here worried sick. So, yeah, I sort of want to punch something.”

Bucky was taken aback. It was so charming and sweet to see Steve worried about him – accepting of his emotional constipation and his quick temper but completely unaccepting of the way Bucky had put himself in danger.

Bucky couldn’t remember ever having seen so much compassion in one person. It was surprising, attractive and kind of…sexy.

“Come here, hey, breathe out for god’s sake.” Bucky walked across the room, finally letting go of the door, and climbed onto their huge, feather bed behind where Steve was perched on the edge. He began softly massaging his husband’s broad and tense shoulders.

“Everything’s okay,” Bucky reassured hoping to drain the tension from Steve, “You’re right, I shouldn’t have left like that and I’ll never, ever do that again.” Bucky began peppering kisses against Steve’s cheeks and neck to punctuate his apologies.

“I was stupid,” Bucky conceded with a soft, open mouthed kiss to Steve’s neck, “and inconsiderate,” He continued, this time stroking his hand down Steve’s torso causing him to shiver.

“Bucky--” Steve whined.

“What?” Bucky replied in a tone of mock innocence still gently stroking his hand further and further down the length of Steve’s body. 

“I’m still annoyed.” Steve argued, rather unconvincingly.

“I know,” Bucky purred, “That is why I’m showing you how sorry I am.”

That earned a small chuckle from Steve.

“Ahhh, there’s that sound I missed so much.” Bucky crooned, swinging his leg over Steve’s body and manoeuvring himself to straddle the other man’s lap.

Bucky knew he had been granted forgiveness when Steve raked his hand through Bucky’s hair and pressed his head down to meet Steve’s lips in a soft kiss.

Slowly their kisses became more heated, and Bucky – all too aware of what he wanted – began to wriggle in Steve’s lap generating friction between his ass and Steve’s hardening cock.

Bucky knew the teasing nature of his movement would rile Steve up, and he was right.

Steve rose to his feet, Bucky’s legs wrapped around his waist as Steve held up the rest of Bucky’s weight. Striding across the room, Steve slammed Bucky’s back into the wall and Bucky groaned at the powerful display of strength.

“Wall fucking,” He moaned into Steve’s mouth, “How did you know I have a thing for wall fucking?”

Steve smirked, “Lucky guess?” and proceeded to return Bucky’s feet to the ground.

Bucky whined a little at having to stand again, but was quickly placated when he realised Steve had only made this adjustment to take off Bucky’s pants and throw them across the room.

Steve grabbed the lube off the nightstand and coated two of his fingers. Bucky eagerly wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist once more and moaned sinfully as Steve opened him up. Steve was slow and teasing as he moved inside Bucky, slow to the point of being cruel.

“C’mon, Stevie, faster please.” Bucky whined, but Steve wouldn’t increase his pace.

“This is your punishment,” Steve whispered seductively into Bucky’s ear, “I had to wait for you and it wasn’t easy, so now you have to wait for me.”

Bucky nodded, his pupils blown.

Steve finished opening him up, and then gave Bucky three of his fingers to suck on.

Bucky tried to reach for Steve’s beautiful, hard cock but Steve pinned Bucky’s hands above his head to stifle that attempt.

Steve kissed Bucky, hard with a lot of tongue and for an agonisingly long time.

When Bucky had almost given up hope, Steve gently pushed his cock inside Bucky’s hole. The waiting and the suspense had done something to Bucky because he felt so close to coming as soon as Steve was inside of him.

The fact that Steve began to fuck him against the wall at a punishingly glorious pace didn’t help things.

Bucky kissed Steve’s neck roughly, sure to leave a mark, as he came all over his chest. Steve’s breathing became rapid, his moans increasing in volume and Bucky knew he was about to come. He bit his husband’s neck one more time for good measure and, sure enough, it pushed Steve over the edge.

\--

When the two had recovered from what Bucky would describe as their frankly athletic fucking, Bucky asked Steve if he had forgiven him.

Steve assured Bucky with a kiss that they had successfully navigated their first fight, and had had make-up sex for the first time as a married couple.

So, Bucky lay with his head on Steve’s chest, on their comfortable bed in the middle of paradise, and sighed to his husband:

“I don’t want to go back to reality tomorrow.”

“I know what you mean.” Steve chuckled.

“We’ll come back here one day, won’t we?”

“Hell yeah.”

Bucky grinned. They’d be okay back in Brooklyn, and if they weren’t? Well, they’d always have paradise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY UPDATED WTF.  
> I have been away for so long because from Sept-Dec I've been doing my Philosophy dissertation for University (10,000 words pity me). Yes, I study philosophy and will never get a job but hey at least I have these gay supersoldiers to ease the pain of unemployment.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this new chap (sorry for its pervyness at the end). Please let me know what you think/any thing you wanna see in the next chap when the boys move back to Brooklyn. Again thanks for the support for this fic and to everyone who reads/comments/kudos you are my heroes you are the reason I continue to write and love it so. 
> 
> (I post head-cannons and respond to prompts on tumblr so come follow me! I recently changed my url from secretsinmysoul --> harddrinkingshortfusedmess) http://harddrinkingshortfusedmess.tumblr.com/


	9. Loving can hurt, loving can mend your soul.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve moves into Bucky's place and cute, domestic fluff ensues.   
> It's Bucky's first night back at work since the honeymoon and Steve's friends surprise them at the bar.   
> Another unexpected and very unwelcome guest also surprises Bucky - and Steve.

Deciding where to live turned out not to be that difficult after all. Steve’s tiny studio apartment was sparsely decorated, and most of the time it was left isolated and unkempt; out of the way of Steve’s friends and their homes. The only things in that little apartment that Steve felt connected to were his view of the Brooklyn skyline and his window-facing easel.

Bucky’s place, though, had become one of his favourite pet projects. After having to decorate his bar; picking out colour swatches, bathroom tiles, and wall hangings, Bucky’s obsession with interiors and designing for comfort had seeped into his own two-bedroom flat above.

The place was basically a haven, Steve felt, as he moved his few boxes of possessions into his new home. The place had quite a zen theme with wall hangings of calm blue mandalas all around, a granite island in the middle of the kitchen (a chef’s absolute dream), long and soft sofas in the living room with warm wooden décor and an old-fashioned fire place to boot.

The bedroom reminded Steve of the city it lay in the middle of – the walls canvased with paintings of New York’s buildings, the same ones that Steve had so deeply admired in the beginning stages of his exploration into the art world. A wide and inviting king-sized bed sat in the middle of the room, and hand-made shelves stood against the walls on either side. They were littered with more books than Steve could imagine reading in a life-time, and endearing framed pictures of Bucky’s family and friends.

It was, in one word, impressive. Bucky made Steve feel at home, allowing him to set up his drawing tools on a desk near the wide window in his – their – bedroom. Clothes, well Steve didn’t have many, but what he did have fit perfectly alongside Bucky’s in his wardrobe.

Once they had settled down, Bucky decided to cook Steve a housewarming dinner – and a damn good one. Mac and cheese, the Winifred Barnes way; man that Steve Rogers really was a lucky son of a bitch to be married to such a catch. He thought so anyway.

Steve spent his evening chasing the taste of sweet tiramisu dessert from his husband’s mouth. Bucky spent it laughing and teasing Steve, making him run around the apartment and catch him to steal kisses.

It was sickeningly cute, really. Even Bucky had started to feel a bit disgusted with their adorableness.

Thankfully, for the sake of his sanity, Bucky couldn’t spend all night in the bubble of marital bliss they had built around the apartment.

That was what life had started to feel like to Bucky; their happiness was an ignorant bubble, a vain attempt at blocking out the ugly world and preventing its toxicity from seeping into their new home. Unfortunately, Bucky knew that bubbles were notoriously fragile and prone to bursting.

Bucky had to go to the bar to work, much to Steve’s annoyance. He couldn’t possibly stay wrapped up in bed with Steve all night, as much as Bucky wanted to; Wanda and Pietro had been running things alone all afternoon. Not to mention, the twins and Thor had also been keeping a close eye on the bar during Bucky’s long, luxurious honeymoon.  

Steve let Bucky go – eventually – to do his thing. He knew that Bucky enjoyed his work – Steve’s husband had told him how he loved greeting regulars and welcoming them into his warm bar on cold nights, catching up on all the neighbourhood gossip. Bucky also loved the buzz of incomprehensible conversations that filled his busy venue; the chattering peppered with bursts of laughter made him feel comforted.

Steve decided that he would spend his evening painting on his new easel. He finally understood, for the first time in his life, what artists meant when they wrote about having a muse – a font of inspiration. Watching Bucky move fluidly in certain ways, noticing the variations of his smile, and the wrinkles that formed around his eyes when he laughed, made Steve’s fingers itch with anticipation.

So, he settled down with his charcoal and set to drawing something other than the Brooklyn skyline for once. Something much more breath-taking.

Tony, Natasha, Clint and Sam knew that it was Steve’s first night at his new home. Naturally, the gang had decided they had to come and have a celebratory dinner at the bar. Happy hour had absolutely nothing to do with Tony’s bright idea.

Bucky grinned when he recognised Steve’s friends walk into his place. He felt warm when he saw their faces light up as they caught his eye. Tony and Sam cheered, brandishing the champagne and thousand percent cotton bed sheets they’d bought as a housewarming present. Sam even pulled Bucky in for a hug.

“Finally back from down under?” Clint asked, clapping Bucky on the shoulder whilst simultaneously butchering the Australian accent.

Even Natasha seemed glad to see Bucky, she was smirking after all.  

“Guys you didn’t have to do all this.” Bucky protested, laughing at the sheets Tony had brought.

“Someone actually moved in with Steve,” Sam said in mock surprise, “it’s a special occasion.”

“It’s a damn miracle.” Tony corrected his friend.

“Alright, alright,” Bucky chuckled, “Stevie’s not all that bad.”

“Stevie?” Clint gasped, excited like a five-year-old on Christmas morning, “That is too fucking adorable – you two make me sick.”

“Well, sit down and grab a drink; you’ll feel better. I’ll go tell Steve you’re here.” Bucky showed the group to his best table, and made sure Wanda received their drink orders.

\----

Steve wasn’t expecting Bucky to be back so soon, when he heard the key jiggle in the lock of their apartment’s front door.  

He quickly rushed to cover his work in progress – a drawing of Bucky and the way he smiled in the morning. Steve’s vision of Bucky was him, laying on his side using his one good arm to prop himself up.

Bucky never wore his prosthetic in the morning, because he didn’t sleep in it. Steve found the scarring around Bucky’s upper left shoulder beautiful, but he knew all too well that Bucky didn’t feel the same way.

Steve loved the morning; it was a time when Bucky was too dreary from sleep to be self-conscious about his arm. Steve could admire the gorgeous spider web pattern of scarring on his shoulder, he could memorise every single detail of his lover’s appearance. Bucky slept shirtless, so the covers would droop around his waist leaving his muscular torso exposed and allowing Steve to learn more of the lines that comprised Bucky’s perfect body.

Steve worried, though, that Bucky might hate his drawing; he feared that Bucky may find the extent to which Steve admired and had memorised his every feature a little unnerving. Steve _certainly_ wasn’t going to show Bucky the project when it was unfinished.

“Hey, you’ll never guess who’s downstairs?” Bucky called to Steve, as he came through the door.

“Hmmm,” Steve thought as Bucky sauntered into their bedroom, “is it the pope?”

“In my seedy Brooklyn bar? My Irish catholic heart really hopes not.” Bucky joked, holding one hand over his heart and shaking his head at the floor.  

“What you doing there?” Bucky changed the subject, having noticed the obscured easel in front of Steve whose hands were covered with the remnants of charcoal.

“Painting,” Steve grunted, feeling heat rise to his cheeks, “But don’t look at it yet it’s not finished.” He said motioning Bucky away.

“Well,” Bucky announced as he moved away from the painting theatrically slowly, “hurry up and finish because your friends are downstairs and they bought us presents.”

“Presents?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Give me 5 minutes.”

“Such a punk.” Bucky smiled and leaned in to press a quick kiss to Steve’s cheek.

Bucky waited as Steve washed the dirt from his hands in their bathroom.

 _Okay, so, is this what happiness feels like?_ He wondered.

It had been quite a while since Bucky had felt it. Happiness. Since he left the army those moments in which a smile would sneak onto Bucky’s face before he even felt the slightest desire to fight it had been too few and far between. After Bucky laboured and rebuilt one piece of his life after another, he would pause to feel the happiness only to find another would come crumbling to the ground.

Partly, he supposed, because his vulnerability had turned him into a guy with bad judgement and a slightly too volatile weakness for whiskey (and an all too powerful fear of loneliness).

When Steve came out of the bathroom, looking clean and proper as ever, Bucky walked over to him and teasingly kissed his lips.

“Let’s go downstairs.” Bucky said, when he finally pulled out of Steve’s arms.

“What was that kiss about then?”

“Seeing you all clean got me thinkin’ bout how I can dirty you up again later.”

“You’re the fucking devil, Barnes.”

“So I’ve been told.” Bucky winked.

\---

When Steve had settled at the table with his friends, Bucky was occupied working the bar with Wanda, so the gang began questioning him on the honeymoon.

Sam asked about the food, Tony was curious about the sex – of course. Clint asked,

“So, what’s married life like in general?”

“Why? Thinking about joining the husband club?” Steve countered, winking at Natasha as he took a sip of beer.

“Who knows?” Clint shrugged.

“Get your nose out of our business, Rogers.” Was Natasha’s reply.

The group had been sat, drinking and laughing for about an hour. Steve kept gazing at Bucky as he rushed around, making sure everyone was content and that Pietro had taken their orders down.

Damn, Bucky’s ass looked good with little apron strings tied above it.

Steve was, understandably, distracted by his husband when the commotion at the bar’s entrance began.

A man had walked in, with short dark brown hair dressed head to toe in black – black jeans, blank tank and a black leather jacket. He had a scar on the left side of his face.

The reason he attracted attention was because, barely a second after he set one foot in the bar, the bouncer – Thor – was in front of the guy blocking his entry. Thor had one hand out in front of him, denying the guy any access inside.

Pietro also rushed to Thor’s side, instantly, and the men seemed to be exchanging heated words.

Bucky was bringing Tony a refill when the whole table heard the guy shout “Just let me see him - don’t make me kick your fucking foreign asses.”

Tony, as inquisitive as ever, turned to Bucky and asked: “What’s that all about? Who is that asshole?”

“Someone who really shouldn’t be here.” Bucky muttered, his eyes fixed on the man at the door as he shoved Thor and Pietro out of his way.

Bucky was already charging over to this intruder before Steve could ask any questions of his own.

“Leave.” Bucky shouted, as he approached the man – Brock Rumlow, Bucky’s ex-something. Not boyfriend. Boyfriends don’t treat their partners the way Rumlow did.

“Come on, baby,” Rumlow crooned as he saw Bucky, “I heard you got married – came to offer my congratulations.” His dark chuckle betrayed any attempt of sincerity that his words may have possessed.

“You’re drunk, and you’re not welcome here.” Bucky said, keeping his voice steady.

That’s when Steve saw this _stranger_ try and wrap his arm around Bucky’s waist. Steve reacted on instinct. He was over there in a flash, pushing the man’s arm away from his Bucky.

“Oh ho ho,” Rumlow exclaimed, feigning surprise, “this must be your new hubby, baby. Gotta say, this boy scout doesn’t look like he could give you what I used to.”

“What did you just say to me?” Steve growled, and Bucky noticed his right hand had clenched into a fist.

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky gently said, putting himself in between his husband and ex-whatever, “Stand down buddy, huh? I got this.”

And thank God for Pietro, because he managed to pull Steve back to his group of friends.

“He’ll be okay,” Pitero assured Steve, “If anyone’s equipped to deal with this asshole it’s Buck. He didn’t always know how, but once he learned he never fucking forgot.”

Bucky squared up to Rumlow. “I thank the fucking lord every day that my husband is nothing like you. I thank every being in the entire universe that I left your sorry ass.” Bucky spat his words at the other man, venom coating every syllable.

“I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself, sweetheart. But you miss me.”

“Like a hole in the head. Now get out of my bar, or Thor will remove you.”

“I’d quite like to remove this gentleman in any case.” Thor chimed in, from Bucky’s side.

“Pssh,” Rumlow scoffed, “I’d like to see you try, you’re a fucking walking Loréal advert.”

Thor chuckled, picked the drunken disturbance of a man off the ground (with minimal effort), and carried him into the street - far from their home.

As he was carried off, though, Rumlow took the time to shout: “You’ll be back Barnes, they always come back. My dick is looking forward to it.”

Bucky shook his head. He couldn’t believe what a disgrace Rumlow was, and was slightly ashamed of himself for feeling vulnerable as soon as he’d heard that asshole’s voice.

“Who was that guy?” Steve asked, his face fixed in a determined stare over Bucky’s shoulders.

Bucky exhaled, and pushed the hair out of his eyes. “I can’t talk about it right now.”

“You can’t talk about it right now?” Steve raised his voice, his eyebrows narrowing into a frown.

“I have customers, and--”

“I’m your husband and I deserve to know who that asshole was and what he wanted. Why did he call you baby?”

“You _deserve_ to know?” Bucky mimicked, then decided against a full scale argument in front of his bar’s patrons, he softened his tone and continued “Look, I can’t do this right now--”

“Sure,” Steve scoffed, “let me know when its fucking convenient for you then.”

He stormed out of the bar, Sam in pursuit.

“Buddy, don’t worry. He’s a protective guy; he overreacts. He’ll be back.” Tony promised, resting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky couldn’t deal with all of the chaos all at once. Seeing Brock was stressful, kicking him out of the bar was a nightmare and it had made a scene. The cherry on top of the whole thing? Now Steve was furious with him. Seconds from a breakdown, Bucky leaned over to Pietro – “Give everyone a free shot for the inconvenience.”

Pietro nodded, Bucky shrugged Tony’s hand off his shoulder and ran upstairs.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm shit at updating but I really hope you like this chapter. I worked pretty hard on it!   
> THESE BOYS NEED TO STOP STORMING OUT ON EACH OTHER, AMIRITE?  
> Also, wanted to get this chapter out today because the Civil War trailer drops later and we might all need some healin'. It's Bucky's 99th birthday today as well!  
> As always, comments/kudos/feedback of any sort feeds my soul.   
> Come cry with me on tumblr: http://harddrinkingshortfusedmess.tumblr.com/


	10. they say it's where the heart is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fresh from a fight, Steve has run off and Bucky's tearing his hair out trying to find him. Luckily, one of Steve's friends can help - and if Bucky can only find Steve, he's sure they could patch their problems up in a mutually satisfying way.

**_Bucky:_ **

_I know you’re mad, and I am too, but please tell me where you are_

_Steve, where are you?_

_If you’re ignoring me as some kind of punishment, please stop it._

_I’m sorry, okay, I just need to know you’re safe._

Bucky was sat in his apartment – more specifically perched on the edge of his bed - phone in hand, looking bereft. He must have sent Steve _a million_ texts (anxiety will make a guy exaggerate) since he’d run out into the street, fast paced and with no direction in mind. Bucky was going out of his mind with worry. 

Bucky felt, quite frankly, lost as he stood up off his bed to pace around his apartment instead of sitting on his ass. He'd never thought of his home as particularly spacious; he had been all too aware of his modest funds when he'd bought the space for his bar and living quarters all at once.

The apartment suddenly felt huge, though, with Steve's absence. The silence of Bucky's phone - his inbox still mockingly displaying the no new messages notification - deafeningly echoed in the vast emptiness.

The silence was broken by a sharp, strong knock on the front door.

 _Please let this be Steve_ , Bucky prayed, but he knew the knock was all wrong - Steve rapped on the door with gentle certainty and an air of excitement to return home.

This knock was singular and strong but with an air of nonchalance- it seemed to say: 'I don’t care if you answer or not, but you'll regret it if you don't'.

So when Bucky opened the door to reveal a stern faced Natasha Romanoff, it all made sense.

"Barnes." She nodded before moving past Bucky and into the apartment. Uninvited.

"Natasha, I appreciate the visit but I'm really worried about Steve right now and I don't wanna talk about my feelings; I just want to find him."

Natasha took a seat at the kitchen counter, chin leaning in her hand that was propped up by her elbow resting on the marble counter top.

"I don’t want to talk about you Barnes. I want to talk about Steve." She replied, inspecting the curved shape of her fingernails.

"Happen to know where he is then?" Bucky asked, dragging one hand through his hair and looking quite exasperated.

"Yes, actually."

Bucky shot a few steps closer to Natasha, now standing what he hoped was near enough to convey his urgency without earning a punch in the face.

"Wanna tell me?" Bucky pleaded, his best puppy dog eyes activated and his voice thick with desperation.

Natasha popped a grape in her mouth - one of his and Steve's grapes, Bucky noted, sat in the fruit bowl on their kitchen island.

"I'll get to that," she promised, "but first I want to explain something to you."

"Explain what?" Bucky asked, willing her to continue so she could reveal the information he was truly interested in.

"Did he ever tell you he was a scrawny fucker until he was like 16?"

"I knew he was smaller."

Natasha snorted, "Smaller doesn’t really cover it - puberty hit that boy like a goddamn freight train."

"Why do I need to know this?" Bucky enquired, anxiety pushing him to resume pacing around the kitchen.

"Barnes, sit down. I'm going to tell you where he is in a second."

Reluctantly, Bucky sat down next to Natasha and mumbled "You're taking forever." In a tone that, even Bucky would admit, made him sound like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum.

"The point is - he was so scrawny people used to joke that the right gust of wind could've blown him away. He had so many health issues, I swear a doctor once told him a powerful sneeze could stop his heart."

"That really doesn't sound like Steve 'wake up every day at 6am to run 5 miles' Rogers."

"Well it was. He was tiny but it never stopped Steve getting into fights - fights with big guys, guys five times his size because he thought it was the right thing to do."

" _That_ sounds like Steve." Bucky scoffed, fondly.

"People - myself included - always told him to stop, that he was writing cheques he couldn’t cash. When he got big, we all tried to stop him joining the army. Everyone said he'd never be captain because he used to be so unhealthy."

"He proved everyone wrong." Bucky smiled to himself, pride flowing though him.

"He did indeed," Natasha paused with a fond smile also gracing her lips, "but it left him with a bit of a chip on his shoulder."

"But he's done so much- he was a captain and a damn good one, and he's the most ripped guy I've ever seen." Bucky protested, frustration running through him.

"Steve still thinks he has to prove that he's deserving of all he has. He worries he'll lose it someday."

"Lose what?"

"You, at the moment. Doesn't think he deserves your oblivious ass."

Bucky was stunned.

"That's why he was so threatened by Brock?"

"That and the fact that guy gives off the biggest asshole vibe I've ever felt - seriously, Barnes, bad judgement there." Natasha chided, though a hint of empathy in her green eyes gave her away - maybe her judgement hadn't always been flawless either.

Bucky smiled sadly - gazing regretfully at his hands folded in his lap. "The worst judgement there."

"Steve's at our gym, third floor of the building we work in."

Bucky's eyes shot up to meet Natasha's.

"Thank you." He said sincerely, grasping her hands with his own.

"Go get him, Barnes. I'll lock up."

\----

Natasha's clearance pass led Bucky to their gym and, sure enough, Steve was there. It wasn’t hard to find Steve amongst the rows of treadmills, cross trainers, weights and exercise bikes. The machine Steve was using was the only one in the whole gym that was actually running, and the sound drew Bucky to him almost instantly. Steve wore white under armour - sweat causing it to cling to his toned chest - and light blue shorts. He was the only man on the floor, probably the only man in the whole building before Bucky had arrived.

Steve must have heard Bucky enter the gym; his footsteps were the only sounds to be heard on the whole floor - aside from the mechanical whirl of the treadmill and Steve's rapid breathing.

Steve looked intensely focused, or maybe angry was more apt word, as he ran. Bucky didn’t want to think about how long his husband had been there, pounding away at the running machine.

Bucky approached the treadmill slowly, and when he was right next to Steve he spoke - even though the other man was refusing to stop his workout even to acknowledge Bucky.

"Hey Stevie," Bucky's voice seemed to snap Steve out of whatever daze he'd been in, "wanna cool off?"

Steve lowered his speed slowly eventually, coming to a stop. He was still short of breath.

"How'd you find me?" He panted.

"Nat. Don’t blame her though; I was sort of desperate to find you."

"Thought you didn’t want to talk to me."

“If you’d looked at your phone in the past couple of hours, you’d know that wasn’t true.”

Steve nodded his head toward the nearby changing rooms. “Gym locker, sorry.”

“I was really worried.” Bucky had meant to speak much more indignantly – he had been prepared to unleash hell on Steve for making him so concerned – but his voice sounded quiet, the fight exhausted from him.

Steve sighed, his heart ached a little when he realised he’d caused Bucky pain. He sat down on the edge of the now motionless treadmill; Steve couldn’t tell if he was exhausted from the intense work out or the crazy, emotional day. Probably both.

“It was wrong of me,” He admitted, “to leave without telling you. That guy just…got under my skin.”

Bucky nodded, “He gets under a lot of people’s skin. I understand why he got under yours in particular, you know.”

Steve scoffed, wiping his brow with his trusted work-out towel, “I’m not an insanely jealous person, Buck, if that’s what you’re getting at. Even if I really didn’t appreciate the way he looked at you.”

“I’m not saying you’re jealous, I’m saying you know the value of strength.”

Steve looked up, into his husband’s eyes for the first time over the course of the conversation. His eyes searched Bucky’s, which stared back soft and kind, asking for an explanation.

“Guys like Brock are bullies,” Bucky continued, “and probably have been for most of their lives. They have all that strength and just use it however they want, regardless of whether it’s the right thing to do.”

“Drives me nuts.” Steve conceded.

“Because you know what it’s like to be not-so-strong, and the responsibility that comes with strength and power.” Bucky finished for Steve, gently lowering his body to sit down next to him on the edge of the treadmill.

Steve smiled, it was small but the most Bucky had seen from him in a while; it felt like a blessing.

“So, you know me pretty well huh?” Steve scoffed, bumping his shoulder against Bucky’s.

“Well, we are married.”

“Thank god for that.”

“Thank god for your abs.”

Steve laughed, uninhibited, and Bucky felt the world right itself again.

“Seriously, though, I guess you have to come to the gym when its deserted because other people can’t work out around you.”

“They can’t?” Steve smirked.

“Nah – they probably take one look at you all sweaty, that white shirt sticking to your abs, strong arms pounding away at a punching bag, while your toned ass moved to the rhythm of your punches…and they’d have to go home and masturbate. That’s what happens, right?”

Bucky quirked an eyebrow, and grinned in the devious way that almost always lands Steve in bed. Actually, no almost needed – it always lands Steve in bed.

Steve chuckled, “I was on the treadmill when you came in Buck, there’s no punching bag on this floor.”

“Ah but there is in my mind.”

“Oh I see,” Steve leaned in toward Bucky, “and, in this fantasy, do I catch you watching me, give in to the pure adrenaline pumping through my body, cross the room to pin you to the cold, hard ground?”

Bucky’s interest was piqued, “Maybe you would do that.” He said coyly.

“Do I undress you, so that the eager drops of sweat rolling down your body can mix with mine as I press against you and run my hands all over you from your chest down to your hips…”

Bucky swallowed, but his throat was dry. “Oh please, do go on.” He requested, his voice husky with arousal.

“How about I show you?”

Steve was on him in a second, rolling Bucky off the treadmill whilst locking his mouth in a passionate kiss; with more tongue than tact. It was filthy, and Bucky loved every second of it.

He was pinned to the floor, Steve’s body heavy on top of his own, in what Bucky thought was – quite frankly – the best use of strength he’d ever experienced.

They tore each other’s clothes off, eager and impassioned, barely breaking kisses to pull the fabric of their shirts off their bodies. Anything other than the feel of skin on skin had now become unacceptable to Steve – he needed to feel Bucky’s heart beating in his chest, his hot flesh against Steve’s own.

Steve’s burning flesh finally met Bucky’s hot skin, sweat allowing their torsos to slide against one another, creating friction as Bucky gently pressed at Steve’s crotch with his leg, eliciting a deep groan from his husband’s mouth.  

“Take your pants off, and get inside of me.” Bucky panted: an order clear and difficult to ignore.

Neither one of the pair knew why they felt such urgency in the heat of this particular moment. There was no reason to rush; no one would interrupt them at this hour, but Bucky felt sure that if he wasn’t filled by Steve in a second he’d just explode.

“I don’t have anything, babe.”

And Steve was right – no lube, no condoms, nothing. Bucky knew what a stickler Steve was for not hurting him, he’d never go in without lubrication. Bucky had to be imaginative.

He raised Steve’s right hand to his mouth and indulgently sucked two of his fingers, coating them in spit. Bucky refused to break eye contact with Steve as he did so, wanting to communicate his urgent need.

The ex-captain’s pupils blew, eyes black with arousal - the innocent baby blue overshadowed by desire.

 Bucky shimmied out of his jeans and underwear, flipping onto his front to really drive home the message: he needed Steve inside him, and he needed it now.

“I’ve never seen a prettier sight.” Steve admitted, realising he was helpless in the face of Bucky’s toned and gorgeous ass.

He obliged, tentatively slipping one finger into Bucky, slowly teasing him open and curving his finger to make Bucky whine in pleasure.

“The other one, please.” Bucky begged, shamelessly keen to feel Steve’s strength; to be taken and pounded like the punching bag from his fantasy.

“God, Buck, you take it so well.” Steve praised, his voice deeper than usual as though he were intoxicated.

Steve pressed two fingers inside Bucky, readying him. At the same time, Steve reached under Bucky’s torso to stroke up and down his hard cock as his fingered him open. A reward, Steve reasoned, for taking his fingers so well despite the lack of lube.

“M’ready.” Bucky mumbled, his arousal making him incoherent.

Steve lined himself up with Bucky’s hole and stopped momentarily to lick his own hand, sliding it up and down his dick to give it some lubrication – he wanted to make their passion as pleasurable as possible for the man he loved.

Bucky whined; the feeling of Steve’s absence for even a few seconds seemed to torment him.

Steve pressed into Bucky a second later, unable to keep his eager lover waiting.

Steve moaned, the tightness of Bucky around his cock was overwhelming. 

Bucky felt less comfortable than usual, sex with Steve without lube was a new sensation. The pleasure quickly overcame the discomfort, though, as Steve stroked up and down Bucky's leaking cock with increased speed. 

Bucky wiggled beneath Steve, urging him to go deeper and Steve wanted to fulfil the every desire of the man who knew him so well.  
  
Steve slowly pressed inside Bucky, who groaned with the pleasure of finally feeling what he’d been yearning to feel.

Steve bottomed out, then withdrew, slamming back into Bucky and repeating the action at a steady but exhilarating pace.

Bucky screamed, “Oh fuck, oh God, yes, Steve, Steve.”

Incoherent variations of the sort erupted from Bucky’s mouth each time Steve pressed inside him, hitting just the right spot. Bucky was in ecstasy, feeling the heat in the bottom of his stomach rising – he knew his orgasm was close.

“M’gonna come.” Bucky gasped, his breathing rapid and in time with Steve’s thrusts.

“Let go, baby.”

And Bucky did. He felt his orgasm pulse through him, intense and powerful. Bucky’s arms shook as he willed himself to keep his position steady.

Steve felt Bucky tighten around him and chased his own orgasm with a final few thrusts.

Feeling entirely satisfied and incredibly exhausted, Steve collapsed next to Bucky so they were both laying face up on the cool floor. Their breathing was ragged yet in perfect time with one another - synchronised. Steve kissed Bucky’s cheek before cleaning them up with his stray towel.

Bucky grabbed Steve, burying his face in his lover’s chest.

“I don’t like it when we fight,” Bucky muttered, “but I like it when we make up.”

Steve laughed before admitting more sincerely, “M’sorry I was an idiot.”

“It’s okay, I guess, as long as you’re my idiot.”

Bucky paused a moment and tensed, he spoke again as though he’d had a great revelation.

“Shit, are there cameras in here?”

Steve muffled a chuckle in Bucky’s hair.

“Yup, but I’ll get Nat to erase them before work tomorrow. Wouldn’t be the first time she’s done it.”

Bucky huffed, “Yeah she’d better. Don’t want all your work buddies seeing my bare ass.”

“If only everyone could be so lucky, though.” Steve joked.

Bucky responded by pressing his lips against Steve’s own, stroking a hand through his short hair.

“Come on – we’d better go home; you’ve got work in like six hours.”

“Home sounds perfect.”

As he spoke, Steve realised that - for the first time in a long while – he had a _home_. He had a person who missed him when he was gone, who warmed his bed at night. Someone to share breakfast with, to tell about his day.

He felt goddamn lucky, determined to hold onto his home – to hold onto Bucky – and never let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~I am terrible at updating and I'm sorry but I hope the extra long chapter makes up for it, also I'm going to proof read in the morning but I promised you guys on tumblr it would be out by the end of the week and it's sunday night so yay!~
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter - I had loads of fun writing it. Props if you can guess where inspiration struck me for this one, haha! I also really wanted to write Bucky as a top this chapter but I couldn't it just wasn't working out in my mind. Maybe he will have to stay a bottom forever *sigh* or I'll try again later.
> 
> Alsk, dont worry guys - Bucky reveals more about his past to Steve next time. The next chapter is also going to get a little more serious with one of our boys in some real danger. I'M SORRY.
> 
> As always, comments/kudos give me life. I love hearing that you guys enjoy this story and when you ask me about the next chapter it really motivates me so I don't know how to thank you all. I'll just say a huge thanks here and now. 
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr if you like: harddrinkingshortfusedmess.tumblr.com
> 
> (also I do not condone unprotected/un-lubricated sex it just happened in this world of fictional passion, just to make that clear)
> 
> THANKS FOR READING!!

**Author's Note:**

> Multi-chapter AU. If you guys enjoy this story I will continue and update as regularly as I can.  
> So let me know if you like it/how it could be improved. As always, thanks for reading.
> 
> The premise of this AU is loosely based on the TV show Married At First Sight.


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